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/ r 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 







THE PASSPORT 









THE PASSPORT 


BY 

EMILE VOUTE 



NEW YORK 

MITCHELL KENNERLEY 




COPYRIGHT I915 BY MITCHELL KENNERLEY 



PRINTED IN AMERICA 

SEP 28 1915 

©CI.A411730 'A. 

Ha ' 


To two angels on earth , who have 
been permitted to join with me in the 
satisfaction over a task successfully 
accomplished ; and to one in Heaven , 
who would have given so completely 
of a mother s pride 9 this work is 
lovingly dedicated . 


* * * Whosoever , owing allegiance to thz United 

States , levies war against them, or adheres to their 
enemies, giving them aid and comfort, is guilty of 
treason * * * 


THE PASSPORT 


CHAPTER I 

Richard Warden, third, sat at the window of his 
lofty and comfortable apartment looking across the 
river at the little lights. 

There were myriads of them, flickering in the rem- 
nant of a gale that was blowing, with a few stray 
raindrops, late comers in an afternoon shower, ticking 
monotonously against the windows. 

He was Richard Warden, third , because his father, 
also Richard, was still living — as was his grandfather. 
He would have been Richard Warden, tenth or elev- 
enth, but for the fact that the grandfather was the 
last living of the earlier Richard Wardens. 

His college mates had used the distinguishing addi- 
tum as a sobriquet and he secretly enjoyed the his- 
torical pleasantry, while not at all in sympathy with 
the character of the cruel and vindictive Duke of 
Gloucester. 

Gentle in thought and manner, he was strong in 
mental and physical development and, although 
scarcely turned into his twenties, he had studied earn- 
estly the history of the world and had formed opinions 
and come to conclusions far in advance of his five and 
twenty years. 


2 


THE PASSPORT 


He had the soul of the dreamer combined with the 
capabilities of the leader and was, in every way, that 
composite alloy of the melting pot that goes to make 
the perfect human metal. 

For several hours he had been watching the lights 
across the river. The landscape, hidden in the shad- 
ows of the early evening, assumed the outlines of a 
huge battle-ground with the tiny lights taking form 
as signals with growing regularity and intensity. An 
electric advertising sign flared up like the torch of a 
war king. 

In his mind he saw the struggling hordes, the mov- 
ing of huge bodies of men in the shadows, the flare of 
the cannon, with the shrieks of the victory-maddened 
and the dying mingled in one awful, devilish ensemble. 
It all seemed so real, so much like that which was hap- 
pening elsewhere on this earth. 

As he sat there and mused, the strains of martial 
music reached him from the broad thoroughfare below. 
He left his apartment and took the elevator to the 
street floor. 

Down the avenue came a brilliant procession, a pa- 
geant typical of cosmopolitan New York. There 
were horsemen and paraders on foot, carriages and 
gayly decorated floats. The chief executive of the city 
rode proudly in the leading carriage, to the music of 
an enlivening march. 

Among the civic bodies in the parade he noticed 
some five hundred men, shoulders thrown back and 
marching with a military precision quite unlike the 
haphazard strides of the other groups on foot. A 
banner, carried by the leader, informed him that this 
five hundred constituted a German sharpshooter’s club. 
There were a number of such clubs in New York. 


THE PASSPORT 


3 


Both sides of the thoroughfare were packed with peo- 
ple, acclaiming the officials, the pageantry and the 
martial music. It was all very enthusing and he stood 
there, dreaming, imagining how he himself would feel 
returning as a hero, acclaimed by his fellow men, em- 
braced by the women in the ecstacy of hysterical en- 
thusiasm and lauded for having conquered others of 
his fellow men, conquered them by killing, slaughtering, 
exterminating them. 

Then, his mind diverted into less sanguinary chan- 
nels, he thought how much nobler it would be to return 
a victorious peacemaker! Fellow men and women 
would acclaim just as heartily — just as hysterically. 

Yet it had never been done. 

The returning hero must always be a killer — whether 
of beast or man, it did not matter. But his prowess 
must needs be measured by his power to exterminate, 
his passion and his ability to take life, never to pre- 
serve it. 

Still occupied with this waking dream, he re-entered 
the big, grey-stone apartment house, a building em- 
blematic of peace and industry. Again in his eyry, 
he once more looked out over the dark river at the 
twinkling, flickering lights. He surveyed the scene as 
a giant would survey it — as a man surveys a village 
of bustling, tireless ants. 

The Great War had much affected Richard Warden, 
third. He had no bias and was prejudiced only in the 
overflowing sympathy he felt for those whose homes 
were being invaded and ravaged. He made a mental 
comparison between the wide stretch of land and water 
under his eyes and the great expanse of territory 
ruined and robbed by the omnipresent Teutons on the 
other side of the Atlantic. 


THE PASSPORT 


How easy it would be for a giant, standing as high 
as he now stood above the earth, to scatter the ruthless 
invaders ! 

Once he had turned away an army of hostile ants 
who, seemingly, were bent upon violating the peaceful 
industries of a little village in his garden. The invaders 
were big, red ants and the smaller, black insects in the 
village were, apparently, taken by surprise and val- 
iantly defended their domain. He had scattered the 
invaders with a twig and had the satisfaction of seeing 
the village again pursuing its normal activities. 

Oh, for some Brobdingnaigan to do for the Belgians 
and the French what he had done for his little friends 
in the garden! 

As he thought of it now, those big, red ants, with 
their fat, well-rounded bodies, brought vividly to his 
mind the Kaiser’s stout, well-fed warriors, with their 
shining helmets, as he had seen them on the parade 
grounds at Potsdam and at Metz during a summer’s 
sojourn abroad. 

A giant, with his head as high above the surrounding 
country as his own was now, with a giant’s twig that 
would, undoubtedly, seem as monstrous a weapon to 
the German invaders as his own little twig must have 
seemed to the big, red ants, would be able to clear the 
invaded territory in a moment, poke over huge cannon, 
howitzers and great fortifications, just as he had poked 
over the earth on the outskirts of the ant village, and 
transform stricken Belgium and Northern France into 
a peaceful, if devastated land. 

The subject of proportion fascinated him. It all 
seemed to end with Man. 

In the wars of the insects, of the birds, of the 
smaller animals, there was always some larger insect, 


THE PASSPORT 


5 


bird or animal that’ could stop the work of extermina- 
tion between the smaller belligerents and scatter them. 
The final physical tribunal was — Man. But Man, in 
his own wars, found himself helpless except through 
the superiority of numbers and of cruel weapons and 
then only by a terrific sacrifice of blood. The natural 
law of proportion stopped with Man. 

There was no giant to do for Man what he, Richard 
Warden, third, had done for the ants. The result had 
always been appalling and it never was more so than 
in this Twentieth Century struggle that had placed an 
innocent community at the mercy of an unscrupulous, 
barbarous invader and laid waste a fair and peaceful 
land. 

Faint echoes of the martial airs in the street below 
brought him back to his thoughts of the returning 
conqueror; the victorious return of the hero who, by 
reason of having put to death sufficient numbers of 
his fellow men, had succeeded in liberating his own 
land or else make it the master of another! 

It was always killing, killing! 

It had been thus since the beginning of Time and 
the hope that the ancient practices were gradually but 
surely undergoing a change had been ruthlessly shat- 
tered at the very zenith of an enlightened age! 

The lights still flickered across the river. 

On the water other skimmering little flashes took on 
the shapes of bursting shells. 

Closing his eyes, he could see the thousands of uni- 
formed, helmeted human ants on the embankment op- 
posite, laying waste the land below upon which he was 
gazing as a giant would. 

He felt the tremors of the earth as the shells found 
their mark, saw the crumbling marble piles along the 


6 


THE PASSPORT 


beautiful river drive, saw the city all about him in 
flames, terror upon all faces, men and women and 
children being buried at every step under mountains 
of falling stone and twisted steel. 

Were he as tall as the building at the window of 
which he stood, six strides would bring him to the 
other embankment and one sweep of both arms would 
scatter that hostile army, with the bullets from their 
puny weapons rattling against him as impotently as 
hail stones during an autumn storm. 

The desire to help Belgium’s stricken people became 
an obsession with him. 

He sat at the window, in deep reflection, until late. 
Then he tried to interest himself in a book but, instead, 
picked up the day’s late editions and was soon poring 
over the more or less detailed accounts of what was 
happening on the battlefields. 

The dispatches were not, from the viewpoint of one 
desiring to see the German war lord rebuked for his 
insolence, reassuring. The Mailed Fist was being 
driven further and further through the allied lines and 
the alternating forward and retrograde movements of 
the opposing forces in Belgium were gradually redu- 
cing that country to a bleak, charred plain. In North- 
ern France, too, the ground once covered by beautiful 
vineyards was being prepared, by Wilhelm The Insa- 
tiable, for the withering heat of the blast furnaces 
where Krupps could be made for conquests still to 


S 


All this he saw prophesied in the daily prints and 
the idea of scattering the fat, red ants of Germania 
became more and more thoroughly inculcated in his 
mind. 

To upset the plans of those who considered them- 


THE PASSPORT 


7 


selves invincible did not present itself to the young 
man as a grotesque proposition. There had been men 
before him who had made the world do their bidding 
and the only difference between them and himself lay 
in the fact that his predecessors had been master by 
the torch and sword while he desired to be master 
without recourse to arms or bloodshed. He felt that, 
in his sub-conscious self, there was hidden a way, if 
only he could bring it to the surface. 

Deeply interested in physic phenomena, to which he 
had devoted much time, Warden knew that, through 
his subjective mind, there would present itself a solution 
of the apparently gigantic problem before him. He 
set himself to the task of concentrating his thoughts 
upon the subject and it became so absolute a part of 
his waking as well as his sleeping hours that he soon 
appeared peculiar and incomprehensible to those with 
whom he was thrown in contact. 

“A fortune awaits the man who can find the way to 
send the interned Germans in America back to Ger- 
many,” said a friend to him one day. 

“ A greater fortune and much greater fame awaits 
the man who finds the way to make it unnecessary for 
them to go back to Germany,” he replied. And usually 
he would turn the conversation and resume his far- 
away look and silent meditation. 

While he had taken a course in applied chemistry, 
he had half regretted his self-outlined career after 
quitting college, much to the disappointment of his 
father, who had planned for the son a brilliant future 
in the profession that had dealt so generously with 
himself. It was with keen pleasure, therefore, that 
the elder Warden received word from the young colle- 
gian saying that the latter had decided to actively 


8 


THE PASSPORT 


take up his chosen profession and would devote himself 
to experiments for a time, in the laboratory of his 
father in the Warden home, beautifully situated in one 
of the garden spots of New England. 

The time intervening between the sending of the 
letter to his father and the giving up of his comfort- 
able bachelor quarters in New York, he spent largely 
in the great libraries. Day after day, engrossed in 
scientific books, he would sit there making copious notes 
and memoranda, grudgingly snatching a few moments 
for his meals and totally ignoring his social obliga- 
tions, notably so in the case of the charming Miss 
Mary Berwin, which particular social obligation had, 
in fact, been relegated to positive oblivion from the 
moment that he had begun, as his friends pleasantly 
described it, to have “the bug in his brain.” He would 
spend the evenings looking over the river at the flick- 
ering lights — when he was not going over his notes and 
data — and the last thing he did before retiring was to 
set his mind intently upon THE WAY, so that he 
might fall asleep with brain predisposed, and possibly 
bring forth, out of his subconsciousness, a realization 
of his hopes — a logical release of his captive dream. 

His determination to pursue the profession for which 
he had studied was, to some extent, due to the fact 
that the young man was well aware that the continued 
brooding over his pet ideal might lead to serious conse- 
quences, if he did not otherwise occupy his mind. In 
this way he proved, to his own satisfaction at least, 
that he was well-balanced mentally and intended to re- 
main so. The friendly jibes of his friends — upon the 
rare occasions that he met them — did not disturb him 
in the least. 

“If there is a bug in my brain,” he would say smil- 


THE PASSPORT 


9 


ingly, “it is the liveliest bug that ever was and it is 
keeping my brain active. It may claim public atten- 
tion, some day, in a manner you little dream of now!” 

Finally, the day arrived when he gave up his New 
York lodgings. The evening before he had gazed for 
the last time upon the little lights across the river, had 
seen in his mind’s eye the human ants massing on the 
ridge opposite, the bursting of the shells, the devasta- 
tion, the coming of the giant and then — Peace! 


CHAPTER n 


His arrival in the little New England hamlet, nestled 
at the foot of the picturesque Berkshires, was not re- 
garded with any degree of lively interest by the vil- 
lagers. Prone to ascribe eccentricity to anyone en- 
gaged in any form of study or occupation above their 
own powers of understanding, the natives classed the 
younger Warden with his pater, and commented upon 
his home-coming merely as a case of “another bug come 
to town.” 

To the elderly Elizabeth, acting as housekeeper in 
the home of her brother, his coming was a matter of 
the utmost importance, however. The good soul pic- 
tured her nephew bringing order out of chaos on the 
“f&rm” and she could already see the grounds sur- 
rounding the old Warden homestead transformed into 
a beautiful estate under his energetic supervision. The 
chickens, that now looked as if they were suffering 
from the mange, the poultry runs that had fallen into 
decay and the delapidated fences, would now all be 
attended to and the place made habitable, a state of 
affairs that had not been in effect since Grandfather 
Warden became too old to look after the property and 
young Richard’s father had become a sort of passive 
head of the household. 

Vases for flowers and urns for autumn leaves had 
been put in one of the choice rooms of the house which 
had been set aside for Richard’s use by his aunt. A 
pink bow here and there on the lace curtains, the 


THE PASSPORT 


11 


clothes hamper and the whiskbroom, carried out the 
good lady’s idea of a perfectly normal male college 
graduate’s needs, an idea that was further emphasized 
by a profusion of dainty white covers on table, dresser, 
book-case and rocking chair as well as by an exquisite 
white pillow sham interlaced along the edges with a 
pink ribbon. 

Aunt Elizabeth gazed with ill-concealed satisfaction 
on the scene of her activity as she ushered Richard 
into the room and then hied herself to the lower floor 
where she busied herself over a formidable list of nec- 
essary changes and improvements in the property 
which, she felt sure, would prove to Richard a long-felt 
want. 

She received her first shock the next morning at 
breakfast. An expressman had brought a ponderous 
box to the house before her nephew came downstairs. 
It was addressed to the latter and undoubtedly con- 
tained his library and bachelor-den paraphernalia. 
When he came down and told his aunt that the box 
contained chemicals and apparatus for chemical exper- 
iments she was sorely disappointed, for her brother had 
told her nothing of Richard’s intentions to follow chem- 
istry as his career. 

Her second shock came when she went upstairs while 
her nephew was breakfasting. She found that two of 
the vases contained a dark, brackish fluid, while the 
flowers were in the waste-paper basket. The autumn 
leaves were lying on the window sill and their places 
in the urns had been given over to various small bags 
and boxes with uncipherable marks. A cane, with the 
crook stuck into the loop, adorned the curtain bow and 
some colored powder had successfully put the stamp 


12 


THE PASSPORT 


of ruin on the white coverlet on the center table. 

After breakfast, Aunt Elizabeth rather hesitatingly 
suggested a walk through the grounds with her young 
relative. He assented readily enough, somewhat to 
her surprise. He did not, however, appear to show 
the requisite amount of enthusiasm over the proposed 
improvements. He agreed with his aunt that the fences 
looked bad and that the chickens resembled animated 
feather dusters that had seen better days, but he did 
not commit himself on the proposition that he should 
be the one to remedy these faults. 

He inspected the small building used as a chicken 
shelter with greater attention than any of the other 
places to which his aunt led him. This caused the 
worthy woman to believe she had finally succeeded in 
interesting her nephew, although she could not account 
for his devoting himself specially to the chicken house 
since it was in far better condition than any of the 
other structures on the property. 

Her perplexity was dissipated that same afternoon 
when she found her dishevelled chickens enjoying an 
unwonted outing in the vegetable garden nearby and 
Nephew Richard busy putting up shelves in the little 
building which the man-of-all-work, under his direc- 
tion, had broomed clean and painted an immaculate 
white within. At the moment that his aunt entered 
the place, the helper was running an electric light wire 
into the hennery, making Aunt Elizabeth’s query, as to 
whether it was being improved for the chickens, quite 
unnecessary. 

Within a week from the time that he had installed 
himself in the chicken house, the village began to talk 
of the queer things that were happening on the Warden 
“farm.” Often, when the entire community was 


THE PASSPORT 


18 


wrapped in slumber, some of the village rounders, 
coming home late from a neighboring dance, had seen 
mysterious lights in the Warden hennery and on sev- 
eral occasions flashes of blue flame had sent small par- 
ties of the more timid women dancers scurrying home 
along the dark road with a due amount of creepy 
shivers under their wraps. 

One morning, while the aunt was disconsolately view- 
ing the fast gathering ruin over the farm, the good 
woman was frightened speechless by a terrific explo- 
sion and, as she turned, there came a crash of glass 
when the window in the chicken house burst outward 
accompanied by a great cloud of smoke. About the 
same time Richard came out of the building, his face 
and hands blackened, but seemingly unmindful of the 
disturbance he had caused as he made his way to the 
Warden dwelling. 

“It’s alright, Aunt Bessie!” he said as he passed 
the frightened woman, “I think I have found what I 
have been looking for.” 

“Lands sake, it made noise enough!” commented his 
aunt. She was too much overcome to say more but 
helplessly watched her begrimed nephew enter the 
house and go up to his room. 

It was a few days after this incident that Walter 
Nast, a neighbor, came in to tell Richard’s father 
about the peculiar accident that had befallen his herd 
of prize Jerseys. 

“When I came to the pasture this morning,” said 
Nast, “everyone of my ninety cows was lying as dead 
on the field. Those that I examined were warm and 
they did not appear to be dead but they weren’t sleep- 
ing nat’ral, either, for some were all in a heap as if 
they had been overcome by sickness. I hurried to get 


14 


THE PASSPORT 


Doctor Bell, the veterinary, but he was out and by the 
time I came back to the village, about four hours later, 
all the cows seemed to be slowly getting alright again.” 

Aunt Elizabeth listened to this recital of local news 
with open-mouthed amazement. Richard, who was 
present during the telling of Nast’s troubles, was ap- 
parently greatly interested, as was his father, the lat- 
ter suggesting the taking of blood specimen of the 
cattle for analysis, while Grandfather Warden, in the 
inevitable rocker, opined that the cattle had probably 
partaken of some poisonous weeds and that Neighbor 
Nast had better have the pasture looked over. 

There was a wistful look in young Warden’s face 
that gradually changed into an expression of exulta- 
tion. To Nast the ailment of the ninety cows was a 
mystery. To the elder Warden it suggested a purely 
bacteriological problem. To Grandfather Warden the 
solution lay in the pasture weeds. Richard knew that 
the temporary indisposition of these Berkshire cattle 
would lead to the saving of thousands, yea, millions of 
human lives, and at no distant day. 

At the breakfast table some mornings afterward, he 
announced that he would go back to New York for a 
short stay. The decision elicited no comment from his 
father but it was received with an involuntary sigh of 
relief by his aunt, for the young man had, in some way, 
greatly disturbed the spinster’s equanimity during the 
fortnight or so that he had been with them in the 
Berkshire home. 

An hour later he was on a train, with two cumber- 
some valises. Once settled in his seat there was an ex- 
pression of deep thought mingled with satisfaction on 
his face as he sat, wrapped in his meditations, entirely 
unmindful of the beautiful scenery that swept by in a 


THE PASSPORT 


15 


l°ng panorama and he sat there, without stirring, until 
his train rolled into the New York terminal. 

After arranging for a room at a small hotel in the 
vicinity of the station, and depositing his luggage 
there, he bethought himself of Miss Berwin, whom he 
had not seen in a month, part of which time the young 
lady had spent in Washington with her parents. Find- 
ing that Mary was in town, he went to her home in one 
of the big uptown hotels, determined to settle one other 
momentous matter besides the one that had brought 
him to the city. 

The weather being mild, with a glorious late after- 
noon sun adding its lustre to the feeling of exhilaration 
at being out of doors, he climbed to the upper deck 
of one of the top-heavy motor omnibuses that thread 
their way as if by magic through the maze of traffic 
in New York’s congested streets and proceeded to 
enjoy a pipe and the human passing show on his 
journey uptown. 

He secured a seat on the one bench remaining va- 
cant, immediately behind two portly, florid-faced men 
whom he found were Germans. They conversed mostly 
in German although sometimes reverting to broken 
English, the latter with a strong German flavor. Per- 
fectly conversant with the language, he was able to 
overhear much of what was being said, especially since, 
owing to the rumbling of the ’bus, the two men spoke 
in voices loud enough at times to carry to the seat 
behind them. After listening to the first few words 
that were spoken, he realized that the drift of the con- 
versation was most significant. It gave him a start- 
ling insight into another phase of the subject in which 
he was so deeply interested. 

From what was said he gathered that one of the men 


16 


THE PASSPORT 


had been for many years officially connected, as a coun- 
selor, with the German Embassy at Washiijgton but 
was, in reality, a German secret service officer with a 
roving commission in the United States. The other 
man was named Bachman, or Backman, who lived in one 
of the suburbs and who, seemingly, was exceedingly 
well posted on the exact numbers and the condition of 
Germans and their descendants in New York and its 
environs. 

“The time is not yet come,” said the counselor. “If 
this country had taken sides with us against England, 
we could have had two million men, armed to the teeth, 
across the border into Canada by now.” 

“Yes,” commented the other, “we could have easily 
sent a couple of hundred thousand men from New York 
alone. They are all ready, with first class rifles and 
plenty of ammunition. We have ten thousand rifles 
stored away with which to arm those I. W. W. ruffians, 
who are ready to do our bidding for a small price and 
the privilege of looting. They have been thoroughly 
canvassed, without their knowing what job they are 
wanted for but they are keen for it, whatever it is. Of 
the regulars, we have five hundred of our own people 
in my district alone at the last election. They are 
all naturalized voters but solid for our cause to a man. 
We are drilling right along among four hundred and 
odd groups that hold private smokers and masquerades 
once a week. The men are as fine a body of soldiers 
as His Majesty could wish for in Germany to-day.” 

“Did you get the disbursement through without 
trouble?” the counselor asked. 

“We got it in five installments through five different 
German banking houses here,” was the reply. “The 
distribution among the different houses was done so as 


THE PASSPORT 


17 


not to cause any talk. All the clerks in these houses 
that they were not entirely sure of have been dropped. 
There came near being a leak at one time, when the 
first installment came through. A hundred thousand 
for a shuetzen corps, especially at this time, is liable 
to cause comment !” 

“The situation is equally good all through the coun- 
try,” broke in the counselor again. “If these fools in 
the American papers don’t shut up and if those other 
fools in Washington don’t do something very soon, 
His Majesty may be depended upon to make a move 
that will bring these crazy Yankees to their senses. 
Drilling is going on all over the country and all our 
halls are stocked with full equipment. Thanks to His 
Majesty’s spirit, which pervades all of us, we have a 
better standing army right here in the United States 
than any of the European states have over there, ex- 
cept our own. As for the Yankees, bah ! They have 
less than a hundred thousand regulars all told and the 
state militias are a rabble, just a rabble of clerks, com- 
pared to our seasoned men. Did you know ” 

The jolting of the ’bus over a cobbled cross-street, 
the noise of its horn and the shouting of an angry cab 
driver, drowned the rest of the sentence for Warden, 
the more since the counselor had leaned over toward his 
companion and had finished the sentence in a more 
subdued tone. 

However, he caught the reply from the other man, 
who was evidently much astounded at the information 
conveyed. 

“You don’t mean it?” 

The counselor answered in the affirmative, as the 
inclination of his head indicated. 

Warden’s eavesdropping had been productive, how- 


18 


THE PASSPORT 


ever, even without this final piece of information, which 
he had missed. He was so intent upon listening to 
everything the two Germans were saying that he had 
not noticed, in a seat across the aisle on the ’bus 
deck, a black-mustached man who was watching him 
closely. At the moment of the break in the conversa- 
tion — for Warden — this man leaned over the coun- 
selor, with his mouth close to the latter’s ear and 
whispered something to him. The counselor at once 
repeated what was said to him, to his friend, also in a 
whisper and then neither could refrain from glancing 
quickly back of them at Warden. He, in the mean- 
while, had settled himself back against the railing, 
something having told him that the black-mustached 
man’s whisper had to do with his eavesdropping. 

A few moments later the ’bus, now near Grant’s 
Tomb, stopped at the street where Miss Berwin lived 
and he alighted, with a number of other passengers. 

As he walked rapidly eastward he did not see that 
the man with the black mustache was on the other side 
of the street, watching him. 


CHAPTER III 


In appearance, Mary Berwin was typically an 
American girl, just as Warden was a typical American 
boy. There was no suggestion of that foreign touch 
about her manner of acting or speaking which, as a 
general rule, immediately brands the alien. Yet he 
knew her as the daughter of a former Englishman and 
his wife, naturalized some ten years, but whose tender 
age at the time of coming to the New World — she was 
then only ten years old — had caused Mary to acclimate 
quickly and grow up into American young womanhood. 
Tall and fair, the girl had been blessed with more than 
average beauty and she had a quiet graciousness of 
manner that quickly won for her a large circle of 
friends, both in official Washington and unofficial New 
York, the two places between which William Frederick 
Berwin spent most of his time. 

“I had really begun to believe I was not to see you 
again,” pouted Miss Berwin when he was ushered into 
the apartment. “I have had a perfectly lovely time in 
Washington but that does not absolve you from having 
to explain why you did not come up during the fort- 
night that we were still here.” 

He made the best excuses that he could think of at 
the moment without actually telling the girl the reason 
of his neglecting her. He was burning to tell her of 
his plans, of his ambitions, but put it off from moment 
to moment, as a cat puts off the killing of the mouse, 
although he could, like most young men of his age, 


20 


THE PASSPORT 


well imagine himself leading this sweet creature to the 
altar and from it, and together facing the deliciously 
thrilling career that he had mapped out for himself. 

The conversation of the young couple drifted nat- 
urally enough to the stirring events in Europe, during 
which he made it plain that his sympathies lay with 
the opponents of the Germans because of the manner 
in which the Germans were waging war. 

“It is too bad,” said he, “for most every college 
graduate has always leaned towards Germany in all 
things. One unconsciously associates student life with 
Germany and, for me, the legends of Old Heidelberg, 
Nuremberg and Frankfort have always held the 
greatest fascination.” 

Mary became quite enthusiastic as the conversation 
touched upon Germany. 

“I was born in Heidelberg,” she said, clapping her 
hands. 

“You — born in Heidelberg!” he said, incredulously. 
“Why, I — I always thought you were English by 
birth.” 

“No. You see, mamma and papa were on a visit 
to Germany and I was born there. Brother Charles, 
too, was born in Germany while mamma and papa were 
visiting Berlin, and so was little Herman. Herman 
was born in Berlin a year before we came to America 
from London.” 

“But your father and mother are English born, are 
they not?” 

“Oh yes. I do not know just what part of England, 
though. Father always had much business in Ger- 
many and he and mother often made trips there. They 
speak German almost as well as they do English.” She 
went to a table and took up an album, which she 


THE PASSPORT 


21 


brought to where they were sitting. “Here,” she con- 
tinued, smilingly, “I will show you some photographs 
of the town you so much admire, taken when I was a 
little baby there !” 

They amused themselves looking through the pages, 
commenting laughingly on some of the bearded, foreign 
faces and on the old-fashioned foreign modes as shown 
in several of the older family photographs. 

“This is an old friend of father’s.” She removed a 
picture from its place and handed it to him, for better 
inspection. “Isn’t he a splendid-looking old character, 
with all those lovely decorations pinned on his chest?” 
she added, laughing merrily. He held the photograph 
in his hand and looked with interest on the strong, de- 
termined face. Mary was called out of the room by 
her mother and he arose and stood at the mantel, still 
with the picture in his hand. In the photograph he 
saw reflected the likeness of the strongest and most 
powerful man in Germany of his day. 

“If this man was an old friend of his,” he said to 
himself, “then Mr. William Frederick Berwin cer- 
tainly had an influential friend in Germany.” 

A movement he made scraped the back of the picture 
against the mantel and tore off a sheet of paper which 
had been held in place at the four corners by a bit of 
paste. Then he saw, reflected in the mirror above the 
mantel shelf, an inscription on the back, an inscription 
in German. He had no difficulty in translating the 
writing. 

With Greetings and Well Wishes to 
Wilhelm Frederich Buhrwein , His Imperial 
Majesty's most worthy servant , ever faith- 
fully devoted to the cause of the Emperor and 
the Fatherland . 1st. August . ’ 95 . 

VON BOSCHE , 


22 


THE PASSPORT 


“Wilhelm Frederich Buhrwein — William Frederick 
Berwin! The coincidence is certainly peculiar,” he 
mused. 

His further reflections were interrupted by Mary’s 
return and he frankly turned to the charming girl for 
a solution of the German inscription. 

“I guess this particular picture was not given to 
your father.” He showed Mary the writing on the 
back. “This was written to a man named Buhrwein, 
apparently a German and also quite apparently in the 
service of the German Emperor.” 

“That is strange,” said the girl. “Why, papa 
always points to that picture with pride because it was 
given to him by a man so very powerful in Europe. I 
must ask him about it.” 

Just then Mr. Berwin entered the room. He greeted 
Warden pleasantly and was about to settle himself in 
a chair and join in the conversation when Mary turned 
to him with the detached photograph. 

“Look, papa!” she cried. “Who is this Mr. Buhr- 
wein that this man writes to? His name is almost like 
yours, isn’t it?” 

William Frederick Berwin’s dignified and quiet man- 
ner vanished as he beheld the photograph, with the Ger- 
man writing on the back, held up to his view. 

“Have I not told }mu never to disturb the album?” 
he fairly bellowed. “The pictures are not to be re- 
moved from it. I intend to be obeyed when I say a 
thing.” Then, realizing that he had made a family 
scene before a stranger, he mumbled half an apology 
and proceeded to re-insert the photograph in the book. 
“It is nothing at all,” he continued, trying to control 
himself but watching Warden furtively as he squeezed 
and pushed the photograph back into its place in the 


THE PASSPORT 


23 


album. “It is nothing at all, really. Merely a picture 
that I got through a friend of mine, who died. The 
similarity in names brought us together. I do not 
like to have my papers and pictures disturbed, that’s 
all.” And Mr. Berwin attempted a sickly little laugh. 

Warden felt that the object of his visit to Mary 
Berwin would not be attained that evening. The girl 
and the place were there, to be sure, but there had been 
a disturbing element and undefinable something that 
had kept the momentous words from being uttered and 
the incident of the German photograph completely 
shattered the tranquility of the occasion. 

“Mary tells me she was born in Heidelberg, a place 
I admire very much,” he said, finally, to Mr. Berwin, 
by way of starting a general conversation. 

“Yes,” replied the father, “you see, my wife and I 
were spending the season in Germany, as we do almost 
every year and so Mary came to be born on German 
soil.” 

“And both your sons, too, I understand,” persisted 
Warden. 

“Yes, that’s right, quite right.” 

“But you yourself were born in England, were you 
not?” 

Berwin turned in his chair, looking rather sharply 
at Warden over his eye-glasses, as he answered quickly : 

“Oh, yes. I’m English. That is, until I became 
naturalized here, let’s see, I guess nearly ten years 
ago. Now I’m an American — a Yankee!” There was 
an unpleasant smile about Mr. Berwin’s lips. 

While Berwin spoke English almost flawlessly, Mrs. 
Berwin, a pleasant-faced woman with an effusiveness 
of manner quite in contrast with that of her husband, 
and who had joined the others during the final hour of 


24 


THE PASSPORT 


Warden’s stay in the Berwin apartment, had a decid- 
edly German accent. This, she explained, was because 
she had spent so much time in Germany in her younger 
days and had kept it up through her annual visits to 
that country. 

Finally, after a few precious moments alone with 
Mary, Warden said his adieus and departed. 

As he got to the street and made his way to the 
corner, to board an omnibus, the man with the black 
mustache came forth from the shadow of a building 
across the street and entered the hotel he had just 
left. The man took an elevator without the formality 
of announcing himself and made his way to the Berwin 
rooms. Although the hour was then getting late, Mr. 
Berwin, who opened the door himself, showed no sur- 
prise at having a caller. He addressed the visitor in 
German, which tongue also was used by the visitor. 

“What brings you here at this time?” asked Berwin, 
as he showed the other into the reception room of the 
apartment. 

“The young fellow who has been calling here just 
now. Who is he?” 

“Why, young Warden? What are you interested 
in him for?” 

“Well, he was overmuch interested in the conversa- 
tion of Bachman and Von Stamm this evening. So 
much so that I decided to follow him. We were all on 
top of a ’bus and I was sitting well back. This young 
chap was on the seat just back of the others and he 
was not losing a word of the conversation, let me tell 
you.” 

“Bachman and Von Stamm should not talk of vital 
matters in public places,” was Berwin’s sole comment. 
Then, after thinking a moment, “As for young War- 


THE PASSPORT 


25 


den, he’s a friend of Mary’s, a young college chap, and 
you need not worry your head about him.” 

Mary entered the room at this moment and heard 
.Warden’s name mentioned. 

“What is the matter with Richard, father?” she 
asked, anxiously. Then, noticing the other, she nod- 
ded a formal greeting, for she had only seen the man 
once before when he had called on her father. 

“Nothing at all, my child,” said Berwin. “Mr. 
Smith here thought he knew him when he met him 
coming out of the hotel.” 

“Mr. Warden is a very nice young man,” laughed 
Mary. “He is going to be famous some day, too, for 
he has made an invention or something that is going 
to stop this cruel war. You had better be nice to him 
for you may have him for a son-in-law some day — if 
he becomes very famous !” 

“What does the young man think of the war?” 
asked the father, curiously. 

“Oh, he is with the English in his sympathies. He 
does not think much of the Kaiser. So you ought to 
like him, papa, for you are half English, you know.” 

“Hm. Yes,” was Berwin’s comment. Pie and the 
man he had called Smith exchanged meaning glances as 
Mary left the room. Berwin gave the other the name 
of the hotel at which Richard was stopping and the 
visitor left the apartment. 

The next morning, after his breakfast. Warden went 
to the lower part of the city. His first visit was at 
the Naturalization Bureau in the Federal Building and 
there he asked to see the record of William Frederick 
Berwin’s naturalization. In the register kept for this 
purpose he found this entry : 


26 


THE PASSPORT 


Date: Nov. 15, 1905 . 

Name: William Frederick Berwin. 

Born: London , England. 

Arrived U. S.: March 11, 1905. 

The other data under the name consisted of the in- 
formation that Berwin had renounced allegiance to 
King Edward, that he had three children at the time 
of taking out his papers — Mary, Charles and Herman 
— that his wife was living and that he had never been in 
trouble with the law. 

From the Federal Building he strolled to the office 
of the British Consul where, he felt sure, he would find 
the record of Mr. Berwin’s arrival in America as a 
British subject and that it would clear up the mystery 
of the German photograph, which had bothered him 
quite a little. He desired to satisfy himself that his 
half-acknowledged theory was absurd. 

The British Consul’s clerk brought down a number 
of huge registry books and finally turned up, under the 
date of March 11, 1905, among those who had regis- 
tered their arrival that day in New York, that of 
Berwin as follows: 

William Frederick Berwin; naturalized in Lon- 
don, 1893; born in Berlin, Germany, 1870; wife, 
Augustina; children, Maria, Carl and Herman; 
occupation, commission broker. 

“So there,” he thought, as he made his way slowly 
from the Consulate, “is the solution! Undoubtedly 
Berwin was Buhrwein, most worthy servant of the 
German Emperor. However, the man probably ended 
his official work long ago, at any rate when he became 


THE PASSPORT 27 

a British subject. So what’s the use of worrying 
about it?” 

Then he suddenly saw the back of Von Bos che’s pho- 
tograph in his mind’s eye and remembered the date, 
August 1, 1895 ! Two years after Mary's father ap- 
parently became a British subject! Von Bosche praised 
Buhrwein as faithful to the German Fatherland and 
the Emperor two years after Berwin was supposed to 
have foresworn his allegiance to his German sovereign. 
It was unbelievable. He must find out more about it, 
if only in justice to Mary, who seemingly knew nothing 
of the name of Buhrwein or her father’s German birth. 

Plalf an hour after Warden had left the British 
Consul’s office and when he was just stepping into the 
Lennox Library, a very much excited man with a black 
mustache jumped from a motor cab in front of the 
hotel where the Berwins lived. He went upstairs with- 
out delay and was soon in the Berwin apartment. 
When Mary’s father appeared, the visitor, in his ex- 
citement, caught Berwin unceremoniously by both 
lapels of his coat. 

“I was right in my suspicions of that Warden boy,” 
he whispered, trying to suppress his nervousness. “I’ve 
just followed him from the Naturalization Bureau to 
the British Consulate. In each place he has been look- 
ing you up. Who is he and what is he after? Do you 
know ?” 

Berwin appeared discomfited as his excited visitor 
spoke. Then he went to an album, took out the photo- 
graph that had caused the scene the night before and 
held it up for the other to see. Pointing to the inscrip- 
tion on the back, he said : 

“My daughter took it from the album last night and 
the paper covering Von Bosche’s writing was torn off. 


28 


THE PASSPORT 


Young Warden read it and, undoubtedly, compared 
the name I am known by to-day with my name as Von 
Boscbe wrote it. Before that, Mary had told him that 
the man whose face was on the picture had presented 
the photograph to me and that I was very proud of it. 
I suppose he wanted to satisfy himself that I was really 
born in England, as I told him I was. He found out 
that I told him the truth for my naturalization record 
shows my birth to have been in London.” 

“Yes, and he also knows that you were really born 
in Berlin, as the British Consul’s record showed him,” 
snapped the other man. 

Berwin was thoughtful for a moment. 

“Well, I do not see that it can make much differ- 
ence,” he said finally. “Unless he decides to end his 
attention to Mary.” 

“Perhaps not,” replied Berwin’s visitor, “but if that 
young fellow has really some plan on foot and if his 
interest in the conversation of Von Stamm and Bach- 
man was more than mere curiosity, he can make trou- 
ble, especially since you did not state the truth in your 
American papers. You swore you were born in Lon- 
don, remember.” 

“And what does a naturalization paper amount to ?” 
laughed Berwin. “If these damned Yankees do not 
like it, the worst that can happen is that my usefulness 
here is ended and I will have to try another field to 
serve our beloved Emperor. Mexico, for instance! 
Hah, my friend, I have an idea I could serve the Fath- 
erland well — in Mexico!” 

“Why in Mexico?” 

“Because Germany is the only country that can 
overpower that nation of bandits. We can help them 
with their grievances, at first, until we have their con- 


THE PASSPORT 


29 


fidence. After that, it would be easy to get the Mexi- 
cans under our absolute control. The French failed 
and the Yankees failed but the Germans will not fail. 
Once firmly settled in Mexico we could fight these 
Americans across their southwestern border from the 
Atlantic on their eastern shores and — from within! It 
would be a fitting struggle — a fight worth while !” 


i 


CHAPTER IV 


On several occasions following his last call on Mary, 
Warden had felt the uncomfortable sensation of hav- 
ing his footsteps shadowed. He had not noticed any 
particular individual more than once, but something 
had occasionally brought to him the “criminal fear” 
by which the habitual criminal is forever on the qui 
vive for a pursuer. However, he had dismissed the 
thought each time as trivial and unimportant. 

There being no valid reason for his early rising, he 
generally breakfasted late. His prolonged morning 
rest was largely due to the fact that he would sit up 
long after midnight engrossed in the weighing of his 
problems or in chemical experiments, for which latter 
purpose he had transformed a private bathroom into a 
laboratory. 

This morning he had awakened with a hazy memory 
of a dream that he had gone through during the night. 
The recollection of it grew more distinct as he stretched 
himself into full consciousness and moved himself into 
a sitting posture in bed, the room flooded with the 
light of a day well advanced. 

Yes, now he remembered. A burglar had come upon 
him as he lay asleep and he had hurled a chair at the 
intruder upon awakening. The fellow had made off 

without taking any valuables and there the dream 

ended or, if continued, it lay buried in his subjective 
mind. 

Then he looked at the window. He rubbed his eyes. 


THE PASSPORT 


31 


Surely he had not left the room in such a topsy turvy 
condition before retiring. 

And he had not left the window open from the bot- 
tom. He was sure of that. 

He jumped out of bed and looked about the room. 
Was it possible that he had walked in his sleep and 
upset his things this way? 

As he surveyed the scene his eyes fell upon something 
on the floor. He picked it up and found it was a dark 
blue silk ’kerchief torn in half, that did not belong 
to him. 

So there had been a burglar, after all ! He had not 
dreamt it ! 

A few moments later there came a knock at the door 
and a bellboy brought him his morning paper. He told 
the boy to send the hotel manager upstairs. When 
that worthy arrived and learned of his guest’s exper- 
ience he was worried. 

The rooms on that floor were connected on the out- 
side by a fire-escape balcony which ran the length of 
the court. There were four other guests whose rooms 
were connected by the balcony and none of them had 
complained of a burglar’s visit, the hotel man ex- 
plained. Three of these were women who had lived at 
the hotel for a long time. The fourth, who occupied 
the room adjoining that of Warden, had taken it the 
afternoon before. This guest, the manager said, was 
a short man with a dark mustache and he had left the 
hotel that morning, just after breakfast. He would 
look into this man’s room just by way of precaution. 
When he returned a few minutes later he had what 
looked like a little rag in his hand. 

“Nothing except this bit of cloth,” said the manager. 

“That’s plenty and sufficient,” answered Warden. 


32 


THE PASSPORT 


“I found the other half of that piece of cloth under 
my window on the floor this morning.” 

After the manager left he went over his effects but 
could not discover anything missing and concluded the 
thief had been frightened away before gathering up 
anything that he could have carried off. 

A glance over the morning paper brought an excla- 
mation of pleasure to his lips. 

“The very thing!” he cried. 

He hurried with his dressing and then spent an hour 
in the improvised laboratory. 

In the early afternoon he presented himself at the 
door of a tall building in Union Square. The build- 
ing was closed, it being a half holiday, but he found 
the janitor sitting on a little chair in the hall on the 
ground floor. 

“I am anxious to make some bird’s-eye photographs 
of the meeting in the Square this afternoon,” he said 
to the janitor. “Would you let me do this from the 
roof, or from one of the windows on the top floor?” 
At the same time he slipped into the janitor’s hand a 
greenback, removing thereby any objections the 
guardian of the building might otherwise have had. 

He was taken upstairs in the elevator. While the 
janitor was showing him into an empty loft on the 
top floor, a well-dressed man waited at the door down- 
stairs. The newcomer approached as the janitor re- 
turned from his trip to the top floor. 

“Did a man with a camera come here a while ago?” 
he asked. Upon receiving an answer in the affirmative, 
he continued: “I’m his assistant so I would like to 
join him. On the top floor? Alright, thank you. No, 
I will walk up. I need the exercise.” 

With that the stranger went upstairs and, on the 


THE PASSPORT 


33 


top floor, hid quietly in one of the small rooms in the 
loft from where he could observe Warden at the win- 
dow facing the Square below. 

The a Sphere, most important and reliable of morning 
dailies, had this remarkable account of an occurrence 
that had set the entire city and, in fact, the country, 
talking, as its leading piece of local news on the front 
page of its issue the next morning: 

4,000 “REDS” AND I. W. W. RUFFIANS 
STRANGELY STRICKEN IN 
UNION SQUARE 

Police and Reporters Also Affected 

In the Midst of Harangues by Agitators at the 
Regular Saturday Afternoon Demonstration, 
Every Person in the Meeting Zone Is 
Laid Low by a Mysterious Ailment 


Four thousand or more picturesquely dirty men and 
women, advertised as the “Army of Unemployed,” but 
consisting for the most part of professional anarchists, 
anti-law-and-order agitators and followers of the so- 
called Industrial Workers of the World, gathered in 
Union Square at two o’clock yesterday afternoon to 
listen to speeches by their leaders. At two-thirty 
o’clock every one of them, besides at least two hundred 
police officers, a dozen reporters and several photogra- 
phers, were suddenly stricken with an ailment that 
rendered them unconscious for from four to five hours. 

What the cause of the strange visitation was has not 
been discovered, although the police and health depart- 
ments of the city worked diligently far into the night 
to find a solution to the mystery. 


THE PASSPORT 


84 

Three men were talking from as many points of 
vantage in the crowd when the weird thing happened. 
Whatever it was, it came suddenly, so suddenly that 
the reporters on the edge of the crowd near the park 
cottage did not remember what had occurred when 
they came to. 

From spectators at windows in offices overlooking 
the Square it was learned that those who first ran to 
the scene when men and women were seen sinking to 
their knees were also completely overcome. Only those 
who reached the stricken ones from five to ten minutes 
after the visitation were able to render assistance and 
these later comers did not find any explanation for 
the strange happening. 

The speeches were at the height of their blasphemous 
and vicious attack on organized society, law, order, and 
government, and the huge crowd had reached the climax 
of its riotous delight over the fiery words spoken by 
their loud-lunged orators when two little toy balloons, 
evidently weighted, fluttered down upon the heads of 
the mob. 

In big, white letters on a background of blue there 
was printed on the balloons “Down with Anarchy.” 
One of the little globes rested for a moment on a second- 
story window-sill of the building on the north side of 
the plaza where the meeting was being held, but it fell 
away just as the janitor’s wife ran to the window to 
secure it. She was the only person who saw the in- 
scription on the balloon — except those who were later 
stricken down — and who was able to tell the police 
about it. 

The crowd seemed frenzied when they saw the bal- 
loons. Hundreds of hands were raised ready to crush 
them when they should get within reach. At the very 
moment that the two little balloons were crushed, amid 
frantic yells, the “thing” happened. 


THE PASSPORT 


35 


Rapidly those in the anarchist meeting zone toppled 
over without a struggle. The janitor’s wife declared 
afterward that all the thousands in the mob were 
stricken within the space of one minute. 

The two police inspectors standing on the balcony 
of the park cottage, where they could look over the 
heads of the mob, were seen to sink to their knees. On 
the asphalt, auditors fell in heaps with blue-coated 
policemen in their midst. 

Newspaper reporters, with rolls of “copy” paper 
and pencils clutched in their hands, were lying near the 
park cottage platform. Two photographers who had 
been stationed on a pile of lumber fell to the pavement, 
one of them suffering a fractured arm, and with both 
their cameras crushed in the fall. A cinematograph 
operator sank to his knees on a mound of paving blocks 
upon which his camera remained upon its tripod. 

A strange spectacle was that of the horse attached to 
the runabout of Battalion Chief Hay of the Fire De- 
partment, and his driver, both of whom were overcome 
in their vehicle. The animal was also stricken and lay 
in a heap between the shafts. 

Police reserves from all nearby stations came on the 
run after Police Headquarters had been notified by 
citizens and ambulances from all the hospitals were 
summoned. 

The scene in the Square at three o’clock was inde- 
scribable. 

The avenues on either side of the Square were alive 
with people and from the southern end of the park an 
onrushing mob of spectators trampled across the lawns 
in a mad scramble for a closer view of the calamity. 
In grim contrast, the plaza at the northern end of the 
Square was filled with a mass of inanimate bodies. 
Arms, legs and heads protruded in indescribable con- 
fusion. 


36 


THE PASSPORT 


It was as if a sudden pestilence had stricken every 
man and woman in that disorderly crowd and felled 
them all simultaneously. Many little children, lying 
as dead between their elders, added a pathetic touch to 
the weird scene. 

It was manifestly impossible to take four thousand 
or more unconscious persons to hospitals in the limited 
number of ambulances available, so a call was sent in 
for every police patrol wagon within a radius of five 
miles. When these arrived by the dozen the work of 
removing the senseless ones progressed with slightly 
better success. 

The ambulance doctors and many volunteer physi- 
cians who were among the spectators failed absolutely 
to diagnose the ailment of the crowd and all that could 
be done was to pile the stricken ones into hospital and 
police conveyances and hurry them to the hospitals. 

The fact that none in that awful, silent mass moved 
a muscle, struck an undefinable terror into the hearts of 
the rescuers. It was a weird and ghastly proceeding 
and those who first arrived on the scene for the work 
of rescue were completely staggered by the hugeness 
of the task. 

It was not very long before the news had spread 
over the city aijd all thoroughfares leading to the 
Square were choked with a struggling, fighting mob of 
the curious. 

By half-past six o’clock less than twelve hundred 
unconscious persons had been removed to hospitals and 
the police were in despair at the hopelessness of the 
prospect of taking at least three thousand more away. 
The police were arranging for searchlights to aid in 
the work of removal when darkness should set in, and 
fresh platoons of reserves were being rushed from out- 
lying districts of the city to relieve the exhausted men 
who had worked with feverish energy all the afternoon, 


THE PASSPORT 


3T 


when, just as suddenly as it had been stricken, the huge 
mass of humanity that lay packed in the Square began 
to recover consciousness. 

Within an hour the disconcerted remnant of the an- 
archist meeting dwindled slowly away. At the same 
time word came from the hospitals that the patients 
there also were recovering and were, seemingly, none the 
worse for their experience except for a slight dizziness. 

Absolutely no explanation has been offered for the 
strange occurrence. 

The Berwins had been in Washington for several 
days and returned to New York on the Monday morn- 
ing following the happening in Union Square. They 
had, of course, seen the reports of it in the Sunday 
papers in the Capital. When they arrived at their 
New York home they found the man whom Berwin had 
called Smith waiting for them in the hotel reception 
room. He accompanied the Berwins to their apart- 
ment and Mary’s father immediately showed the man 
into the study. 

“Well,” said Berwin, “I see you had some happen- 
ings in New York while we were away?” 

The other was evidently laboring under great, sup- 
pressed excitement. He walked up and down the room 
in rapid strides as Berwin spoke. 

“There was something about it that I did not like,” 
he said, suddenly. “On Saturday I looked up young 
Warden and followed him in the afternoon to the build- 
ing on the north side of Union Square, overlooking the 
anarchist meeting place. He was carrying a big box 
that looked like a large camera. I saw him bribe the 
janitor to let him go upstairs. When the janitor 
came back I told him I was the photographer’s assist- 
ant. He allowed me up, too, unknown to young War- 


38 


THE PASSPORT 


den. I hid in a closet from where I could watch the 
boy and finally saw him lean out of the window, hold 
his camera box at arm’s length and apparently take a 
bird’s-eye photograph of what was happening below. 
Then he got back into the room. I could have pushed 
him out of that window without any trouble and with- 
out anybody being the wiser, while he was leaning over 
the sill. Somehow, I’m half sorry I did not do it. 

Now ” here he grasped Berwin by both shoulders 

and spoke very earnestly, “now, I don’t know what 
that boy was up to. He appeared, of course, to be 
taking pictures and he may not have had anything to 
do with what occurred below. But somehow I feel 
that this infernal young Yankee knew it was going to 
happen — whatever it was !” 

“What is you theory of what really did happen?” 
asked Berwin. 

The other man had resumed his pacing up and down 
the room. 

“Do you think I am any wiser than the experts of 
the Health Office, Police Bureau, Fire Department, the 
Mayor and all the rest who are trying their best to 
hand some sort of theory to these sensational New 
York sheets that are clamoring for reasons ? How I 
hate those New York papers ! Oh, to see them muzzled 
and their dogs of proprietors either jailed or begging 
their miserable living from the hands of our glorious 
compatriots ! They howl about Rheims and Louvain ! 
Hah! Wait till these damned Yankees see New York. 
German architecture will rise out of the ruins of these 
ugly piles and Neuer Berlin will live as the great won- 
der city of the Western Hemisphere!” 

Berwin showed impatience at his visitor’s increasing 
enthusiasm. Collected and unimpulsive to the point of 


THE PASSPORT 


39 


being phlegmatic himself, he could not appreciate the 
other’s enthusiasm beyond a certain point. 

“Well, well, what has all this to do with young War- 
den taking photographs of the mob in Union Square?” 
he asked somewhat testily. “Where’s the significance 
of Warden’s picture-taking, anyway?” 

“This much. Young Warden was highly excited af- 
ter leaning out of the window and exposing his camera 
box. After doing this he jumped back into the room, 
closing the window at which he had been working and 
also carefully closing two other windows that had been 
left slightly open at the top. Then he attached a sort 
of half mask over his face which covered his nose and 
mouth. It had little perforations through which I 
could see there was gauze packed underneath. Before 
adjusting the mask he saturated the gauze from the 
contents of a little bottle. Then he opened the window 
and looked out again for nearly ten minutes. When 
he jumped back he took his camera box and, still 
wearing the mask, made his way down the stairs. Com- 
ing from behind the elevator, he must have seen the 
janitor prostrated in the open doorway leading to the 
street for I stepped over the janitor’s body a moment 
later. Warden must have removed his mask when he 
came into the street for he stood there, with a mighty 
strange expression on his face, gazing at that uncon- 
scious anarchist cattle. He deliberately lied to a po- 
lice officer who asked him if he had been there when 
the thing happened for he told the officer that he had 
just arrived on the scene with his camera.” 

“I still fail to see anything very remarkable about 
it, Max Schmidt,” persisted Berwin. “His taking pic- 
tures of the mob just as it was stricken down in a mys- 
terious way may be just a coincidence. There were 


40 


THE PASSPORT 


other photographers there, according to the published 
reports.” 

Max stopped short in his strides and leaned with one 
hand, spread wide open, on a small table in the center 
of the room. He eyed Berwin for an instant much like 
a sharpshooter takes sight before sending the shot 
home to its mark. 

“Supposing I tell you,” he said, slowly, “that young 
Warden’s camera was no camera at all. That it was 
an empty box, covered with black leather and with 
fake camera attachments at one end? A lens through 
which light could not penetrate into the box for the 
very good reason that there was no hole in the wood 
at that end!” 

Berwin looked very serious as Max spoke. 

“How do you know that?” he asked. 

“Because when I got into the same street-car with’ 
him, Warden opened the lens-end of the box, which 
worked on hinges. I saw that the end piece of the box 
was perfectly plain, smooth wood on the inside, like 
the other five sides of the interior. He put the pack- 
age containing his mask and several newspapers inside 
for convenience in carrying and closed the box up 
again with a simple little hook.” 

Berwin whistled softly. 

“That does look strange,” he said. “Where did he 
go?” he asked after a few moment’s reflection. 

“To his hotel.” 

“Did you follow him?” 

“As far as the door. I could not very well go in 
the place after my entering his room the other night. 
I do not know how near the hotel people came to con- 
nect the burglar with Warden’s next door neighbor 


THE PASSPORT 


41 


and I cannot afford to be jailed for burglary just 
now.” 

“What did you find in his room?” asked Berwin. 

“Plenty of bottles, tubes, acids, books on chemistry. 
I looked through all his clothes but the only writing I 
found was a copy of Yon Bosche’s inscription on the 
back of the photograph that you have and a memo- 
randum of your naturalization and consular entries.” 


CHAPTER y 


Progress in events of international importance over- 
shadowed local interest in the ‘‘Union Square Mys- 
tery,” as the happening came to be spoken of in the 
American metropolis. Try as hard as he might, Max 
had discovered nothing further about young Richard 
Warden and his doings that could be construed in any 
way bearing upon the mission that he and Berwin had 
in hand. 

As for Warden, he had, as we know from Max 
Schmidt’s report to Berwin, gone directly to his hotel 
from Union Square on that memorable Saturday after- 
noon. For the first time since he had felt that he was 
being shadowed he had seen the same man lingering in 
his vicinity more than once. He felt morally certain 
that the short, stout man who stood looking up and 
down the street nervously as he entered the hotel, was 
the same individual whom he had noticed lingering 
around with more than passing interest when he had 
stopped to talk to the police officer after the excite- 
ment in the Square. He also recollected, now, that 
there was a man of the same description in the car with 
him on the way from the Square to the hotel. 

In his room, after depositing the camera box in his 
“laboratory,” he noted the time and gave himself two 
hours for complete relaxation of body and mind. 
Shortly after five o’clock he emerged from the little 
hostelry. For a few moments he stood at the entrance, 
casually looking up and down the street but failed to 


THE PASSPORT 


43 


catch any glimpse of the man whom he felt sure had 
followed him. Then he made his way back to the 
Square again and remained at the scene of the disturb- 
ance, closely watching events there, until the last of the 
stricken anarchists had recovered consciousness and 
departed. 

With an air of evident satisfaction the young man 
retraced his footsteps to the hotel and immediately be- 
gan to pack his belongings. His bottles and testing 
apparatus he put into a small wooden case that he had 
secured for the purpose and had one of the hotel boys 
take it downstairs to the hotel office. His personal 
things were put into the big valise which he brought 
downstairs himself. After paying his bill he requested 
that the wooden case be held for him until he again 
should call for it and then he went to a little restaurant 
he was in the habit of patronizing, for his dinner. The 
place was kept by a German who had, however, long 
ago — and with considerable pride — shown young War- 
den his naturalization papers. 

On this particular evening, with his arm full of the 
day’s late editions, he found many Teutonic friends 
of Frank, the manager, in the place. Frank, who had 
been christened Franz, had changed the spelling of his 
name with his allegiance. 

The conversation of the Germans was confined ex- 
clusively to the war and Warden took a seat near the 
serving counter so that he might overhear the contem- 
poraneous analysis of the struggle in Europe, as eluci- 
dated by those who, while they had purposely sepa- 
rated themselves from military oppression, were now 
advocating it as the most wholesome of national virtues. 

“Ve are keeping all de glibbings from dese lying New 
York papers,” volunteered the erstwhile Franz, “unt 


44 


THE PASSPORT 


efery vun goes to Berlin, to der Wilhelmstrasse. You 
yoost remember I say it. At Berlin dey know vot pa- 
pers haf insoolted der Kaiser in New York unt tings 
vill happen. Yoost remember I say it.” 

Franz, from a more or less lengthy acquaintance 
with the young collegian, had come to regard Warden 
as being in accord with every opinion generated in his 
Germanic brain. Warden’s complacency in this direc- 
tion had been superinduced principally by the friendly 
attention of Franz to the ham and eggs or the omelettes 
with which Warden was wont to regale himself. In 
all seriousness the restaurant man and his coterie of 
expatriates collected every printed criticism of Ger- 
many, her army, her navy and her Emperor and War- 
den found, from uncontrovertible evidence, that this 
data was actually sent to Germany and duly acknowl- 
edged by the powers in Wilhelmstrasse. 

“Der Kaiser vill know who ees his frents unt also 
dose vot ees not his frents,” pursued Franz. “It ees 
der same vay all ofer der United Shtates. Der ees not 
von place anyvere dat der Chermans don’t sent efery- 
ting to Chermany vot ees printed in dees lying Amer- 
ican papers.” 

“But,” suggested Warden good-naturedly, “you’re 
an American now, Frank. Why are you so busy send- 
ing clippings to the Kaiser?” 

“Dot’s alright,” said the restaurateur, heatedly. 
“Dot’s alright. I’m an American alright. I got my 
papers. But yoost de same ve can’t haf lies told about 
Chermany. Chermany vill win dis var an’ den de beo- 
ples here in der United Shtates vot lied unt insoolted 
der Kaiser had better look ouidt!” 

“Frank,” he asked, half seriously, “supposing — just 
supposing — that Germany was not beaten in this war 


THE PASSPORT 


45 


and should declare war on the United States, what 
would you do? What would your friends do?” 

The German looked significantly first at Warden 
and then from man to man in the group of expatriates 
about him. 

“Don’t ask me !” he fairly shouted. “Don’t ask me ! 
Ve vould know vat to do! Vouldn’t ve, fellows?” 
Turning to Richard, “I von’t say vot I’d do but der 
United Shtates vould get de biggest surbrise id efer 
had if Chermany efer made var on dis country. I hope 
for der United Shtates id nefer vill happen. Yoost 
remember I say it !” 

Warden ate his meal in silence thereafter, looking 
over the hysterical headlines in the evening sheets and 
leaving the war discussion to Franz and his cohorts. 
Somehow the food did not taste good to him that even- 
ing. He felt a certain relief to be out of the place. 
He had never felt that way before. After squaring his 
account he went to the train terminal and an hour later 
was being lulled to sleep by the rhythmical hum of 
the wheels and rails. 

After the exciting events through which he had 
passed, a few days spent amidst the quiet of the Berk- 
shires strongly appealed to him. Not having an- 
nounced his coming, there was no one to greet him as 
he stepped off the train at the station and, the hour 
being very early, he enjoyed a refreshing Sunday morn- 
ing walk through the country. 

He had hardly entered the house where, in the cheer- 
ful kitchen, he found his aunt supervising the prepara- 
tions for the breakfast, when a messenger from the vil- 
lage telegraph office brought a telegram. It was an 
open question as to which surprised the worthy Eliza- 
beth the most — the unexpected arrival of her nephew 


46 


THE PASSPORT 


or the messenger with the telegram. The combination 
was almost overwhelming, for a quiet Sabbath morning. 

The message was for him and proved to be from 
Mary Berwin. It had been sent from Washington to 
his New York hotel and from there forwarded to the 
New England hamlet. “Returning Monday. Must see 
you immediately unknown to father. Imperative. 
Mary.” He read the message over several times as 
Aunt Elizabeth divided her attention between her bis- 
cuits and her nephew. Then he pocketed the bit of 
yellow paper and turned to the bustling spinster. 

“Well, Aunt Elizabeth. I’m quite a busy man for 
a fellow hardly out of college. Thought I would spend 
a day or two with you and father and here is a tele- 
gram calling me back to New York in a hurry, before 
I fairly arrive! But they will have to wait. Nothing 
shall interfere with my two days at home.” 

The elder Warden, deeply interested in his own 
studies and experiments, during the long years of which 
he had achieved a number of signal scientific triumphs, 
was eager to know whether his son, also, had promise 
of great things in the future. 

“I believe I am on the right track, father,” the young 
man told him. “My visit home is for the three-fold 
purpose of getting some rest, the need of which you 
will later understand, to get some funds and to leave 
with you a parcel containing matters of the greatest 
importance to me. If at any time more than a week 
shall elapse without you hearing from me, you are to 
open the parcel, which now is sealed. Otherwise, it is 
to remain sealed until I come here again.” 

Richard had a modest income of his own but for the 
plans that he had in mind he felt the need of sufficient 
funds on hand to carry him through for several months. 


THE PASSPORT 


47 


He therefore arranged with his father for an advance 
on his income and then settled down to two days’ thor- 
ough enjoyment of the country quiet. Some time on 
Tuesday he would take a comfortable day train back 
to New York. That would be plenty time for his plans. 

But a second telegram came from Mary. It ar- 
rived at noon on Monday and it decided him to leave 
at once. The second message was not re-assuring. 
“On your return telephone me, saying you are Kathlyn 
Strevers’ brother and that you want to know where 
Kathlyn is to meet me. Do Hurry. Danger. Mary.” 
This time the message came from New York, indicat- 
ing that Mary was home again. He began to wonder 
whether he had succeeded so soon in getting himself 
into difficulty. He felt certain that no one had guessed 
his plans and the only thing that began to grow hazy 
and indistinct in his mind while, at the same time, it; 
began to assume a sinister importance, was the posi- 
tion of Mary’s father, coupled with the conversation 
of the two men on the omnibus. He had not connected 
these two incidents before. Now, with Mary’s tele- 
grams, a sudden analogy presented itself to him. The 
various comments on the possiblity of war between his 
own country and Germany, including the talk that he 
had overheard in Franz’s lunch place, did not diminish 
the intuitive forebodings of catastrophe to come. 

Two hours after his return to New York, he called 
Mary on the telephone. In answer to the maid’s in- 
quiry he answered, “Mr. Strevers, brother of Miss 
Kathlyn, wants to speak to Miss Berwin.” He had 
not the slightest idea what Kathlyn’s brother’s Chris- 
tian name was but he was assisted out of his dilemma 
a moment later by Mr. Berwin. “Hello ! Is this you, 
John?” came the query, which he countered with a half- 


48 


THE PASSPORT 


hearted “Yes, this is Jack.” It struck him almost im- 
mediately that John Strevers might be one of those 
Johns who dislike the familiar equivalent for their 
Christian name. But Mr. Berwin was not surprised 
for he pleasantly asked after the welfare of the Strev- 
ers family. Not even knowing the numerical strength 
of Kathlyn’s kin, he parried as best he could in order 
to gain time. Finally Mary came to the telephone. 
After some desultory pleasantries about Kathlyn and 
“Brother Jack,” in which she displayed that feminine 
talent for dissimulation that every woman has at her 
immediate command in an emergency, Mary decided 
that she would meet “Kathlyn” at the Astor for lunch- 
eon, at one o’clock, the following day. i 

Unlike a great many, if not most women, Mary was 
prompt in her engagements. He was waiting for her 
somewhat in advance of the appointed hour in one of 
the reception rooms commanding a view of the en- 
trance through which, in all likelihood, she would come. 
When she appeared the two at once preempted a table 
in a corner of the palm garden the lowered lights of 
which seemed unconsciously to offer the proper nook 
for a serious and clandestine interview. 

“Dick,” began the girl, “something terribly serious 
is happening. I do not know exactly what it is, but I 
feel it is something terrible. In the first place, I found 
out that my name is not really Berwin but Buhrwein.” 
He nodded, to show that he had been almost sure of 
that. “Then, my father and mother are German born, 
just like us children. And, worst of all, father is an 
officer or something in the German government, while 
he is supposed to be an American. Why, he has voted 
regularly for many years ! Dick, I’m afraid — terribly 
afraid.” 


THE PASSPORT 


49 


“And how did you come to learn all this?” he asked, 
gently. 

“When we came to Washington father had a lot of 
German people visiting him.” The girl leaned forward 
over the table and impulsively took hold of each of his 
wrists. “It all comes back to me now. I never really 
realized it. Dick, ever since we came to America father 
always had mysterious conferences with Germans who 
came to call on him at all sorts of odd moments. Well, 
this time we had many of them visiting us in Washing- 
ton and in the evening I heard mamma and papa talk- 
ing very earnestly after we had all retired. Papa 
seemed angry at mamma and I got out of bed very 
quietly and listened at the connecting door between 
their room and mine. Mamma was saying, ‘But you 
certainly cannot do that , Wilhelm !’ to which my father 
replied that he certainly could and would do it, what- 
ever it was. Then mamma said it was wanton and 
fiendish and that she was beginning to feel sorry that 
she was German.” 

“Did you not get the slightest inkling as to what the 
‘it’ was?” 

“No,” replied Mary, “I am sorry to say I did not. 
I even asked mamma about it the next morning, when 
we were quite alone. First, I drew her out on the war. 
I talked about the barbarous things the Germans were 
doing and I asked her what she really thought of it all. 
Mamma began to cry. ‘It is all so horrible, child,’ 
she said, ‘that I cannot hear of it without weeping, 
both for sorrow and for shame.’ Then I told her I had 
listened the night before and suddenly asked what it 
was that father had said he would do, although she 

had called it wanton and fiendish. Dick ” very 

earnestly, “it was as if I had struck my mother a blow. 


50 


THE PASSPORT 


She swayed and looked at me, fearfully frightened. 
Then she moaned and spoke but I could not understand 
as her words were all broken up by sobs, but I did 
manage to hear her say, ‘Oh, it cannot be. It cannot 
be, my child. It is too horrible !’ More than that it 
was impossible for me to get out of her.” 

He sat silent, gazing, abstracted, at the beautiful 
girl whose face was more beautiful because of her in- 
tense earnestness. She, in turn, sat looking straight 
at him. In the mind of each formed questions, eager 
questions, but which remained unframed in words. 

“What did you mean by saying there was danger, in 
your telegram?” finally asked the young man, although 
it was not what had been in his mind to ask her at that 
moment. “And why was I to meet you unknown to 
your father? Has he taken a sudden dislike to me?” 

“The danger I meant,” said Mary, “was partly the 
hidden danger that I feel is all around us, after what 
I overheard in Washington, and also danger to you ! 
When we returned to New York yesterday, a man 
whom my father had introduced to me before as Smith, 
but whom I later learned was a Max Schmidt, a secret 
agent of the German Foreign Office, was waiting for us. 
I overheard some of their conversation — I am not miss- 
ing an opportunity to eavesdrop now — and I heard 
Schmidt tell father that you were doing something in 
which you should be stopped. At the end of the con- 
versation Schmidt said, with a gesture that I did not 
like, that he knew how to stop you. The gesture gave 

me a feeling of horror, Dick, and — and ” there 

were tears in the girl’s eyes and a sob in her voice, “and 
I’m so ashamed, so mortified, so frightened, Dick, be- 
cause my father seemed to agree with this horrible man 
Schmidt,” 


THE PASSPORT 


5T 


“Tell me just how this fellow Schmidt looks, Mary,” 
he said, suddenly, straightening up in his chair. “I 
want to know him if I should meet him.” 

“He is short and rather stout,” said the girl. “He 
has a very heavy, very dark mustache, almost black, 
and ” 

“Aha !” he interrupted. “I guess I know the fellow. 
He followed me several times. The last time on Sat- 
urday.” 

“And what is it that you are doing to cause my 
father and Schmidt to want to stop you, Dick?” Mary 
spoke with great earnestness. “Dick,” very earnestly, 
“I have always thought you would do something worth 
while in the world. I also know your nature, so that 
I am sure you never could do anything that you would 
be ashamed of. I can, therefore, ask you, without 
fear of hurting your feelings, if you want to tell me.” 

He did not answer for several moments, but sat 
looking directly into the eyes of the lovely girl, as if 
trying to find an answer there to a query he did not 
want to give voice to. “I will answer your question 
by asking another,” he finally said. “You have your 
father and mother and you love them both. I love my 
father and the memory of my mother, both of which 
are dear to me. Neither of us would do anything to 
hurt our own people and I would no more do anything 
to hurt yours than you would do anything to hurt 

mine. I say that, Mary, because ” he laid his 

hand gently upon hers, “because I love you dearly. 
This hardly seems the time, or the place, for a chap to 
tell a girl he loves her but I — I must tell you.” 

A slight pressure of the girl’s other hand, as it was 
raised to cover his, a drooping of the gentle, express- 
ive eyes and a slight color rising to the cheeks, spoke 


52 


THE PASSPORT 


the answer eloquently. For the moment the clatter of 
dishes, the shuffling of waiters’ feet and the hum of sub- 
dued conversation was completely lost on these two in 
.the corner of the palm garden. 

“I am doing something that your father wants to 
stop me from doing although neither he nor Schmidt 
has the slightest idea what it is. What I am doing, 
Mary, will cause injury to no one — not one single 
person. It will, undoubtedly, save many lives. What- 
ever it is that your father and Schmidt are engaged in 
must be in connection with the German government 
and whatever the German government is engaged in 
doing means disaster, agony and death. You were born 
German. Your people are German. I was born Amer- 
ican as was my father. My mother, bless her sweet 
memory, was born in Holland, peaceful Holland. What 
I am doing is in the memory of my beloved mother. 
She loved justice and she would not have harmed the 
smallest thing that had life if she could help it. I am 
doing what my mother would have done were she in my 
place. Will you take sides with me, for the saving of 
life, or with the German cause, for the destruction 
of it?” 

“Without knowing what it is that you are doing or 
propose to do, I am with you, with all my heart, be- 
loved.” There was a renewed pressure of her hand as 
Mary spoke and the man knew that he could trust this 
woman in every endeavor that he made, in every step 
that he took to bring about a realization of his wonder- 
plan for the absolute abolition of brutality — of which 
war, to him, was the very worst form. 

“It would take too long to explain to you now, in 
detail, all that I propose to do,” he said. “We shall 
'leave that for another time, I can say this, dear, that 


THE PASSPORT 


53 


my plan, if successful, as I think it will be, will stop 
the war very soon after I can reach Europe.” 

“Europe?” asked Mary, with mingled surprise and 
alarm. “Europe? Must you go there and risk having 
the vessel you are on sunk by a torpedo ?” 

“That form of brutality on the part of the Germans 
is one of the things my plan will stop forever, I hope.” 

“But there are things right here that must be pre- 
vented,” she insisted. 

“How so?” 

“Why, I am very sure that what father and the man 
Schmidt are doing is something dreadful against the 
United States. There was a Senator — a German — who 
called on father and he, father and another German 
were talking. This German said that whatever they 
were discussing would be done near Sandy Hook. 
Father said he was afraid they would be found out. 
The other man insisted that was not possible and the 
Senator said the government here was not wide-awake 
enough to take any action anyway. Just what they 
had planned to do I could not overhear. It was only 
when they began to argue that they talked loud enough 
for me to hear what they said.” 

“In that case,” he said, slowly, “I shall defer my 
trip to Europe until after I have made a trip to Wash- 
ington.” 

“What a strange thing that was that happened in 
Union Square last Saturday,” said Mary as he was 
helping her with her wraps. 

He smiled. “Yes, it was strange, was it not? But 
the same thing will probably happen again, very soon.” 

“Why, Richard ! Why should it happen again 
soon?” she asked incredulously. “How do you know?” 

“I will let you know beforehand when it is to hap- 


54 


THE PASSPORT 


pen,” was the reply. “In the meantime, not a word 
to a single soul on that subject. When it is to happen 
again I will take you with me to see the excitement. 
For the time being I cannot tell you any more. But 
you have faith in me, my beautiful darling, have you 
not ?” 

“I have felt terribly unhappy, lonesome and helpless 
: — until to-day,” she replied, gently. 


CHAPTER VI 


The broad streets of the National Capital reflected 
the glory of a beautiful midday sun as he left the rail- 
road station and walked briskly down Pennsylvania 
avenue. Everyone he met seemed to feel the influence 
of the bright weather. The City Splendid, named after 
the great arbiter of Justice and Freedom, seemed far 
removed indeed from the sordid atmosphere of death 
and devastation that covered, as a funeral shroud, the 
lands across the seas. He felt a sense of overwhelming 
gratitude that this was his country, his peaceful, jus- 
tice-radiating National Capital. 

He had not gone far in the direction of the Capitol 
grounds, when a hand was laid on his shoulder. 

“Your name is Warden Richard Warden?” 

He replied with a “Yes” about the same instant that 
he turned at the inquiry. “Why,” he said, as he no- 
ticed the speaker, “we have met before, I believe. Were 
you not on the Royal Blue to-day — from New York?” 

“The same,” said the stranger, a good-looking man 
of forty or thereabouts. “I did not want to make a 
scene on the train, so I did not introduce myself.” He 
opened his coat, slightly, displaying a badge. “Secret 
Service,” he said, briefl} 7 -. “I will have to ask you to 
go with me. There may not be any trouble for you at 
all and, if everything is satisfactory, you will not be de- 
tained.” The two walked along slowly. 

“What is the reason of my being stopped by the 
Secret Service?” asked Warden. He was puzzled but 


56 


THE PASSPORT 


not at all frightened by this unexpected adventure with 
the secret branch of the government. His composure, 
born of a sense of innocence of any wrongdoing, seemed 
to strike the other man as a show of bravado. 

“That’s alright, young fellow. But we cannot take 
any chances nowadays. Seems you have been acting 
somewhat mysteriously around New York and certain 
information was sent in to the old man about you.” In 
using the familiar title of “old man” the operative, like 
all his colleagues, was paying the Chief of the United 
States Secret Service the highest possible compliment 
and the best proof of his devotion. 

“But who would do that ?” 

“Can’t tell you. All I know is that I was told to 
follow and watch you.” 

“And — and how long have you been doing it?” 

“Since I received my instructions,” was the ambig- 
uous reply. 

Persons who passed the two — through the beautiful 
grounds of the Capitol — never suspected that the 
younger man, his mind alive with conjecture over this 
most unexpected incident and with the great plans he 
had formulated, was in the hands of the dreaded Secret 
Service and that the older man was practically his 
captor. 

“I would like to send a telegram to my hotel asking 
them to send my valise by the next train,” he said, af- 
ter a pause. “I brought nothing with me, intending 
to return to New York this evening and my valise con- 
tains certain papers that would assist materially in 
clearing up any mystery concerning myself.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” replied his companion. 
“Your belongings will be at headquarters by the time 
we get there.” 


THE PASSPORT 


57 


“Do you mean ” 

“Yes, we took care of all that. My partner got all 
your stuff from the hotel two minutes after you left 
there. He took the same train that we did.” 

“Well, this is interesting,” he commented. “You 
chaps must certainly believe that I am some dangerous 
criminal.” They were opposite the Botanical Gardens 
at the moment. He stopped short and turned around, 
facing the government officer. That individual, mis- 
taking the motive, involuntarily grasped both of the 
young man’s arms. “Excuse the remark,” said War- 
den, looking with a smile from one to the other of his 
pinioned arms, “but you are making an ass of yourself, 
old man.” The restraining grip relaxed. “Do you 
know what I am in Washington for? I am here to see 
the Secretary of State, or the Secretary of War, or 
the President of the United States or, even perhaps 
your very own Secret Service people. Instead of do- 
ing anything wrong myself I have come to Washington 
at my own expense in order to warn the government of 
a plot?” 

“And what may that plot be?” asked the other. 

“That will be told to the proper authority,” he re- 
plied. “The sooner you bring me to headquarters, the 
better.” 

They walked briskly along Pennsylvania Avenue un- 
til they came to the Treasury Department building, 
where they went up to the offices of the secret service 
branch. Warden was ushered into the private room of 
the chief of the service. As he and his captor awaited 
the coming of the latter’s superior, he was astounded 
to see another man come into the room carrying his 
big valise and the black camera box. He felt relieved 
when he found that this was all that the secret service 


58 


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men had secured at his hotel. Evidently the packing 
case containing his fragile apparatus, his tubes, bot- 
tles and chemicals, which he had stored in the checking 
room of the New York hostelry, had been forgotten by 
the hotel people in this secret service raid. His captor 
left the room, leaving the other man on guard. A mo- 
ment later he returned with an important looking in- 
dividual who, Warden at once decided, was the head of 
the service, 

When the Chief came into the room young Warden 
was quite prepared. The very first question that was 
asked by that official reassured him. 

“Young man, we have brought you here on informa- 
tion that was lodged against you in connection with 
the occurrence in Union Square recently. You know 
all about that, of course?” 

He nodded assent. 

“What was your connection with that affair?” 

“I was a spectator.” 

“But you went into a certain loft building with a 
camera box. Was it for the purpose of taking pic- 
tures?” 

“It was,” he replied, after a moment’s thought. 

“It was, eh?” thundered Chief Rankin. “Well then, 
why is that box so made that you cannot take a pic- 
ture with it?” He pointed to the large black box with 
the outer appearance of a camera but which, when he 
opened the end, showed a perfectly plain, smooth in- 
terior. 

He looked at the Chief with an amused smile. “Par- 
don me,” he said, “but I did not say anything about 
taking pictures with that box, did I? That camera 
has not been completed. Here is the picture I took 
that afternoon.” He removed a wallet from his inside 


THE PASSPORT 


59 


coat pocket and extracted therefrom a small photo- 
graph. 44 You see, this picture shows plainly that it 
was taken from a height directly above the crowd at 
the exact time that the trouble occurred. As I hap- 
pened to be, in all probability, the only one taking a 
bird’s-eye view of the crowd at the time, you can be 
reasonably sure that this is the picture I took.” 

“Rut you were seen holding this large camera box, 
which hasn’t any lens in it, out of the window on the 
top floor of the building,” persisted the Chief. Warden 
simulated surprise — then amusement. 

“Since that unfinished camera could not take a pic- 
ture and since I am showing you an actual bird’s-eye 
view of the scene, it would appear that I did not use 
that box to take pictures, now wouldn’t it?” 

Chief Rankin did not make any reply. He eyed the 
young man for some time with an incredulous express- 
ion on his face. Then he went to the valise and took 
from it a peculiar mask. 

44 What is this?” he asked sharply. 

“A face mask.” 

44 What do you use it for?” 

“I am a chemist and use it when working with volatile 
chemicals. It — it prevents headaches.” 

“Why did you use it when you were ” sneeringly, 

“taking pictures out of that window?” 

“I am subject to dizziness when at any great height. 
If you will allow me to arrange it on your face you 
will find in it a refreshing and exhilarating odor as you 
breathe through it. Nothing harmful, I assure you. 
This antidote for dizziness is my own discovery. I 
hope some day to see it used by those following danger- 
ous callings at great heights, such as ironworkers, 
steeplejacks, painters, etc. It would not be a bad 


60 


THE PASSPORT 


thing for secret service agents to have masks of this 
sort when on some of their dangerous missions.” 

“One more thing,” said the Chief, ignoring the offer 
to try the mask on himself. “Why did you tell the 
police officer after you left the building that you had 
not seen the occurrence in the Square when, as a mat- 
ter of fact, you did see everything?” 

Warden looked at his inquisitor for a moment in 
blank wonder at this apparently accurate recital of his 
doings that Saturday afternoon. He recovered him- 
self almost immediately, however, and answered in a 
tone of absolute assurance. 

“Because I did not want to get into any newspaper 
notoriety. There is a reporter on the heels of every 
police officer in a case of that kind and I did not care 
to be mixed up in the affair. My father is Professor 
Warden, well known in the scientific world, and I did 
not think I had the right to court needless publicity 
for the family. 

The Chief paced up and down the room several times 
without speaking. His two subordinates remained at 
their posts close to the chair in which Warden was 
seated. Then Chief Rankin looked at them, several 
times, as if he was about to ask their opinions but each 
time he seemed to change his mind. Finally he stepped 
in front of Warden. 

“That will be all. You can go,” he said slowly. He 
waved his hands at his two subordinates, who retired 
to an adjoining room. The Chief seated himself at his 
big, flat-top desk. “Sorry to have disturbed you, 
young man.” Warden rose from his chair to arrange 
his belongings while the Chief busied himself with pa- 
pers on his desk. Suddenly the latter wheeled about in 
his chair. “What was that you said to my operative, 


THE PASSPORT 


61 


that you had come to Washington on business with the 
government ?” 

“Quite right,” replied young Warden. “As I am 
here, I might as well tell you all about it, the more so 
since it is a matter that will be referred to your depart- 
ment, anyway.” He went back to the chair that he 
had occupied before but which now he drew up close to 
Chief Rankin’s desk, with a confident air, and seated 
himself like a comrade — not like a prisoner. 

“In the first place, Chief,” he began, “I will go back 
to the events of that Saturday afternoon. I want to 
prove to you that I am a good citizen, that I have done 
nothing to be ashamed of and that I have nothing to 
fear from the officials of my own glorious country. 
Since you have questioned me and have told me I was 
free to go where I pleased, since you have learned noth- 
ing from me that could in any way be construed as 
having been dragged out of me under fear of the law, 
I am going to tell you all that really happened in Un- 
ion Square last Saturday afternoon, what the real pur- 
pose was of my presence there!” 

Chief Rankin looked dumfounded. 

“You mean that ” 

“I mean that I was at Union Square for a purpose 
which was not the taking of photographs — although I 
did, quite incidentally, take a picture. Furthermore, I 
knew — or, rather, I hoped that I knew — what would 
happen in the Square before I got there and which ac- 
tually did happen. That mask you asked about and 
the ingredients used in it will prevent dizziness at great 
heights — but that was not he primary incentive to its 
discovery. I did hold that camera box out of the win- 
dow — although not to take pictures. The picture, 
taken with this little thing here,” he took from his vest 


62 


THE PASSPORT 


pocket a tiny photographic apparatus, “was merely an 
afterthought.” 

The secret service man sat perfectly immovable, 
seemingly fascinated and eyeing the young man with 
frank amazement. 

“I do not intend that what I am going to tell you 
shall be told to anyone except to you and possibly to 
one of your most trusted men whom you are to be pre- 
pared to assign as my companion on a similar expedi- 
tion as that which took me to the anarchist meeting 
that Saturday afternoon. And now as to the informa- 
tion that was lodged against me. That was anony- 
mous, was it not?” 

“I am not prepared to say,” said the Chief, rather 
huskily. 

“Be as candid with me as I am with you, please. 
We are both working to the same end — for law and 
order.” 

“Well yes, it was anonymous,” finally said the Chief, 
somewhat helplessly but, at the same time, very evi- 
dently impressed with the young man’s earnestness. 
“But what made you think it was?” 

“I did not think. I knew it could not be otherwise. 
The man who sent you that anonymous information 
was very likely on the train with your operatives and 
myself. He is very likely standing outside on the street 
at this moment, watching whether I am allowed to leave 
or not. Chief, that man and those he represents are 
the only ones interested in having me put away some- 
where so that I shall not interfere with their plans.” 

“Do you know him?” asked Chief Rankin. 

“Never was introduced but I think I would know him 
if I met him. Pie goes as Smith, real name Schmidt, 
and he is a dangerous German spy!” 


THE PASSPORT 


63 


“A German spy ! Rut we are not interested in Ger- 
man spies over here. We cannot prevent them spying 
on British, French or Belgian or any other foreign 
interests, as long as they don’t break American laws.” 

“Surely not. But it so happens that this fellow 
Schmidt and his gang are not spying on either Great 
Britain, France or Belgium. They are spying on the 
United States, Chief, and there is a plot on foot — I do 
not know what it is — that is to affect this country, our 
country, and in some terrible manner. That much I 
have learned and it is that plot that brought me to 
Washington.” 

The Chief jumped to his feet. 

“Very well,” he said, recovering himself from the 
state of intense amazement with which he had received 
the information. “We will go to one of the govern- 
ment offices where you can tell your story in detail to 
another man and to me at one sitting.” 

“Before we leave this building,” said Warden, “I 
would suggest that you instruct one of your men to 
follow us at a good distance to see if a man with a 
heavy dark mustache, rather short and stout, does not 
follow you and me. If there is such a one, it will be 
a very good idea to keep an eye on him for the next 
few days.” 

“A very good idea.” Chief Rankin pressed a button. 
“Send Leighton here,” he said to the man who answered 
his summons. 

In Leighton, Warden saw a square-shouldered, erect 
man of forty or forty-five, good-looking almost to the 
point of being considered handsome, with a black mus- 
tache carefully cropped and dressed like a prosperous 
professional man, in excellent good taste. No one 
would ever have taken Leighton for a government 


64 > 


THE PASSPORT, 


Vidocq. He would have appeared perfectly in place 
equally well at his desk in a bank president’s office as 
in the office of the American secret police and there 
was a certain debonnaire attribute to his personality 
that would lend itself splendidly to either an afternoon 
tea or an evening society function. Involuntarily he 
compared Leighton with himself and was conscious of 
a feeling that he and Leighton would get on well to- 
gether. Leighton, while receiving his instructions — 
which included orders for him and another operative 
to follow the chief and Warden with a view to “spot- 
ting” a possible “shadow” — felt unconsciously attracted 
to young Warden. 

“I want you to meet Mr. Warden, Bob,” said the 
Chief. “Warden, this is Leighton, my chief operative.” 
Then, as they shook hands, “You two may be thrown 
in close contact for a time if what this young man tells 
me proves as big a job as it looks now,” he added, look- 
ing at his subordinate. “You trail us, Bob, with a 
couple of others. If you spot a shadow, let the two 
other men keep on his track and not lose him. You 
follow Warden and me to the office of the Secretary of 
State and come in after us as I will want you to hear 
all that is said.” 

Down Pennsylvania Avenue the Chief and Warden 
walked slowly. As they passed the grounds of the 
Executive Mansion a short, stout man who, however, 
had no mustache, fell in two hundred feet behind them. 
At the same moment Leighton and his partners emerged 
from the building and headed westward also. One 
of Leighton’s companions hurried forward, passed 
the short, thick-set individual, crossed the avenue and 
re-crossed as Leighton came opposite to him on the 
other side of the thoroughfare. 


THE PASSPORT 


65 


“Mustache freshly shaven off,” was all the com- 
ment he made to Leighton. 

“Very well, Pierce,” was the reply. “You and Mos- 
ser keep on his trail, as the Chief said. That’s our 
man alright.” 

Warden and the Chief entered the building m which 
were the State Department offices. Leighton, drop- 
ping his companions, followed them in. A little dis- 
tance away but in view of the entrance, stood the 
smooth-shaven stranger and, watching him, Pierce and 
Mosser took up their posts across the street, evidently 
expecting a passenger from every street car that 
passed the corner. 


CHAPTER VII 

The little railroad station of Redfield lay nestled 
against a clump of dense Jersey woods. Few pas- 
sengers ever bothered the station agent there and 
the only discordant notes in the quiet solitude of the 
place were the shrieking whistles of the trains that 
dashed by. Two trains daily, each way, hesitated long 
enough to stop at the little station on the border of the 
woods. 

On the other side of the railroad track, far enough 
from the station not to be observed, yet near enough 
to see everything that was going on there, a stranger, 
wearing a leather coat and leggings, sat in the shadow 
of some bushes. Soon a warning whistle blew and 
around a bend in the roadbed a big puff of black soot 
sent skyward told of the approaching arrival of the 
last train from the city. In the case of Redfield this 
“last train” did not signify the passing of another day, 
for the sun was at its highest in the heavens and many 
more trains would come around the bend — but not to 
stop at Redfield. 

As the grimy locomotive, a coach and combination 
“smoker” and baggage car brought up with a grunt 
and a jerk, a man swung off the coach on the side oppo- 
site the station while on the station side a girl, attrac- 
tive in face, figure and dress, stepped down to the plat- 
form. Hardly had the train begun to move again when 
a motor car, containing, besides the chauffeur, three 
men in the tonneau, stopped on the road side of the 


THE PASSPORT 


67 


platform. One of the trio jumped lightly from the 
automobile and crossed the platform to where the girl 
was standing. 

“I am happy that you have come, dear,” he said, as 
he reached her side. “You were not followed?” 

“Not a bit of it, Dick. I was the only passenger 
for this lonely little place, as far as I have been able 
to see.” 

“Fine. Now to introduce you to the representatives 
of the law ! Then we shall be on our way to where there 
will be plenty of trouble.” 

“And I am to see — it happen?” 

“If it happens, you will see it,” he answered. “And 
I think it will happen,” he added, smilingly. 

Chief Rankin and Bob Leighton were presented to 
Mary Berwin and the party was soon flying over the 
road to Pemberton, some ten miles away. The Chief 
had not taken Miss Berwin’s joining the expedition to 
Pemberton with very good grace. He was inclined to 
look upon the inclusion of a woman in an adventure of 
such importance as ill-advised. Warden, however, had 
told him that Mary had been promised a personal view 
of the very next “demonstration” and as this would 
probably be the last one for some time to come, the 
Chief had acquiesced grudgingly. Had Mr. Rankin 
known that Mary’s father was one of the coterie that 
his men were now actively looking up, it is doubtful 
whether he would have been much at ease on the ride to 
Pemberton. 

Another incident that would, undeniably, have con- 
tributed to the Chief’s disquiet occurred immediately 
after the departure of the motor car from Redfleld. 
The man who had swung from the off side of the train 
made his way quickly along the track to the edge of 


68 


THE PASSPORT 


the woods where the lounging stranger was still sitting 
in the shadow of the bushes. The newcomer was a 
short, stout man without any particular distinguishing 
features. He hailed the lounger before he came up to 
him and was hailed in return. 

“Wie gehts?” shouted the lounger. 

“Wie gewohnlich” shouted the other, with a gesture. 

The two conversed in German, very earnestly. 

“So she came here all right, eh, Max?” said the 
lounger. 

“Of course she did,” replied Schmidt. “Mosser had 
the right tip. He will be able to keep tab on every 
move they make. It’s a mighty good thing we’ve got 
a man in the secret service.” 

“Let’s be off, then,” suggested the first man. “We 
can make a short cut and get there as soon as the 
others. I’ve got the motor cycle all ready, with an 
extra coat and leggings for you, which will change 
your appearance.” 

Shortly after, with Max Schmidt in his new accou- 
trements, they were speeding along a road which, 
although on the opposite side of the railroad track 
from that taken by the automobile, also led to Pem- 
berton. 

The silk mill of Petrie and Company in Pemberton 
was a pretentious structure, facing the County Court 
House — a court house with a surrounding green typi- 
cal of American county seats. There was a wide space 
in front of the mill — between it and the building where 
country justice was dispensed with more or less dig- 
nity — and as it formed the geographical center of the 
town, there never was a lack of human presence in the 
vicinity of the factory, even outside of its own seven 
hundred odd workers. 


THE PASSPORT 


69 


Petrie and Company employed much alien labor — 
the class which, rightly or wrongly, with cause or with- 
out, can easily be swayed by a professional discontent. 
Petrie and Company — and Pemberton — having a clean 
slate so far as labor difficulties were concerned, offered 
a splendid opportunity for those professional malcon- 
tents known as the Industrial Workers of the World 
to add new laurels to their record as promotors of 
disorder and lawlessness. 

The agitators, therefore, had let it be widely known 
that Petrie and Company’s employes were being 
worked on starvation wages — although each of the 
seven hundred and odd men and women in the mill lived 
in a clean, healthy abode and none owed a penny of 
debt in Pemberton. The agitators promulgated t^ie 
news that Petrie and Company’s employes would make 
a demonstration on this particular day which would 
show the cruel bosses that the “weak and downtrod- 
den” in Pemberton could rise in their might when the 
necessity presented itself. This, in the face of the fact 
that the Petrie employes were thoroughly satisfied with 
their quiet and industrious existence and had seen no 
necessity to “rise in their might” — except to go to 
luncheon for which mid-day recreation they were 
allowed a full hour. As most of the employes used 
their lunch hour for a stroll over the Court House 
green, the I. W. W. had very thoughtfully selected 
the latter half of the recess hour for their “benevo- 
lent” intrusion. 

Pemberton, as well as Petrie and Company, voiced 
natural indignation at this threatened vandalism and 
would gladly have knocked the I. W. W. ambitions into 
a cocked hat had it been physically able to do so. As 
the local military defenses consisted solely of two un- 


70 


THE PASSPORT 


uniformed constables and a volunteer fire hose com- 
pany — the latter without any high-pressure water 
system at its disposal — all that Pemberton could do 
was to watch with impotent rage the disembarkation 
of a hundred and some odd frowsy, unkempt, ill-smell- 
ing ruffians from the twelve-twenty p.m. train from 
New York. 

About the same time that this sinister mob walked 
through Pemberton’s main street, from the railroad 
station to the center of the town, an automobile was 
violating the speed regulations of the rural environs 
on the road from Redfield to Pemberton, via Eagle 
Rock. And — also at about the same time — a motor 
cycle with two men bent over forward so far that they 
could not have seen anything in their path, was choking 
off the imprecations of local constables in clouds of 
dust along the road from Redfield to Pemberton, via 
the Old Mill. Through the exact, although mysteri- 
ous working of Fate, the mob, the automobile and the 
motor cycle all reached the County Court House square 
at the same psychological moment. 

While confident enough of the efficacy of his plan, 
Warden was not so sure thM he could carry it to a 
successful issue without causing the innocent Pember- 
tonians as much personal discomfiture as those who 
so richly deserved it. How to bring his own demon- 
stration to bear upon that of the I. W. W. without 
affecting the serenity of the entire Pemberton popula- 
tion was a momentary puzzle to the young man. 

The local population, however, seemed to be shy of 
the newcomers and the latter found themselves grouped 
in a crowd, somewhat isolated, in the middle of the 
street in front of the Petrie mill. 


THE PASSPORT 


71 


Warden sprang from the touring car, which had 
remained at some distance from the scene. 

“Remember, now, what I told you,” he urged. “The 
very instant you see me leaning out of the window, 
all of you adjust your masks quickly. Do not remove 
them until you see me coming back to you.” With 
that he walked rapidly in the direction of the factory, 
carrying his black camera box tucked securely under 
his arm. 

At the mill entrance there was some hesitancy over 
his being admitted on his plea that he desired to take 
photographs of the demonstration in the street from 
an upper window. When he displayed a secret service 
badge — loaned him by Leighton — all objections were 
speedily overcome. 

Five minutes later Chief Rankin, Leighton, Mary 
and the chauffeur saw a window on the top floor of 
the silk mill being opened. The quartet in the auto- 
mobile quickly adjusted their masks, to the wonder of 
several open-mouthed junior Pembertonians, who gazed 
at them with unfeigned curiosity. 

Through his field glasses Chief Rankin saw young 
Warden, who had also adjusted his mask, open the 
“dummy” front of the “camera,” carefully extract 
from within the box a blue balloon about seven or 
eight inches in diameter, to which was attached, by 
means of a bit of string, a small weight. The words 
DOWN WITH THE I.W.W., painted in white letters, 
were on the blue surface of the little balloon. Then the 
Chief saw it thrown to the mob in the street. Yells 
of derision and anger came from below as the balloon 
sailed slowly downward and the agitators saw the 
white lettering. Those over whose heads it came 


72 


THE PASSPORT 


grasped at it. One man swung a stick at the globe 
of blue. It burst under the blow and then 

Pemberton will never forget the day ! 

By strange good luck the Petrie and Company work- 
ers were grouped at a goodly distance from the alien 
mob which had been shouting in front of their factory. 
This circumstance saved most of them from an un- 
pleasant — if harmless — experience and prevented those 
nearest to the crowd of agitators who were not spared 
the experience from falling amid the dirty, unwashed 
beings that littered the place in the middle of the 
street. 

The situation completely upset Pemberton. 

Only one of the town’s two constables remained able 
to attend to the town’s police business. The other was 
lying comfortably on the green as if in untroubled 
slumber. 

The residents of the place were entirely unable to 
grasp the significance of it all. 

When the crowd' of agitators suddenly collapsed, 
en masse , for no apparent reason, those of the villagers 
who had been grouped on the green stood looking at 
the senseless pile of humanity in dumb astonishment. 

Their amazement was intensified when they saw sev- 
eral of their own people reel and sink to the ground, 
and it was to them that the active villagers first gave 
attention. Finding that their friends were, to all 
intents and purposes, sleeping gently with no sign of 
fatal seizure or physical attack about them, the surviv- 
ing villagers were totally nonplussed. Then several 
bethought themselves of the telephone and made a dash 
for the general store close by, where that important, 
if irritating means of communication, had its place of 
honor. 


THE PASSPORT 


73 


The automobile in which sat or, rather, stood the 
secret service men, Marj and the chauffeur, was by 
this time unnoticed since all Pemberton had made its 
way — although remaining at a respectful distance — 
to the spot where the I. W. W. demonstrators lay 
prostrate in the street. 

“There comes Dick now,” spoke Rankin, turning 
to his assistant. “He has his mask off so we might 
as well discard our smelling salts, too, and be ready 
for a quick get-away.” 

He again levelled his glasses, then dropped them on 
the seat in the tonneau, at the same time leaping from 
the car. 

“Quick, Bob, quick!” he shouted as he started on a 
dead run towards the Petrie factory. 

Leighton, thoroughly trained, did not stop to look 
or to ask, but, throwing aside his linen duster, jumped 
after his chief, shouting to the chauffeur to remain 
where he was and look after the girl. 

Having reached the ground floor, after having seen 
from the window several of the Pembertonians run, 
unharmed, to the stricken anarchists, Warden knew it 
was safe to remove his mask, and he did so. As he 
reached the street he started to make his way toward 
where he had left his party, stepping over many of 
those who had fallen immediately in front of the fac- 
tory entrance. He had not walked a hundred feet 
and had just reached a narrow lane leading from the 
Court House green through the back of the village, 
when two men jumped out from around the corner of 
the street and lane. One of them, with a stout stick, 
struck him viciously on the head. The blow, broken 
somewhat by the stiff felt hat he was wearing, stunned 
him and he fell in a heap, his camera case beneath him, 


74 


THE PASSPORT 


It was at the moment that the blow was struck that 
Chief Rankin had dropped his glasses and jumped 
from the car. The chief, followed closely by Leighton, 
was upon the assailants just as one of the latter was 
getting away with the camera box. 

The Chief drew his revolver and fired at the two 
fleeing men, causing the one carrying the camera box 
to drop it. Then both fugitives turned back of a 
house. When Rankin reached this turn — Leighton 
having remained behind with Warden — he saw the two 
men moving away on a motor cycle about two hundred 
yards distant. He watched them for an instant as 
they sped along, almost out of sight, when suddenly 
something appeared to have gone wrong with their 
machine and both fugitives dismounted, Rankin seeing 
them indistinctly huddled in the road. He ran back, 
passed Leighton and Warden — the latter now con- 
scious but dazed — and sprinted to the Court House 
green, where he signalled to the chauffeur to hurry 
to him with the automobile. Some of the Pemberton- 
ians, attracted by the assault and the shooting, showed 
a desire to interfere with him, but Rankin showed them 
a gold badge and they quickly subsided. 

A few moments later the party was taking up the 
pursuit of the escaping cyclists. Coming into the 
road where Rankin had last seen them, a speck was 
made out in the distance which, Rankin and the others 
felt sure, were the fleeing assailants on their wheel 
again. 

“Put on every bit of power you’ve got,” ordered 
the Chief. Then he attached his badge prominently 
on the outside of his coat while Leighton, similarly 
arranging his own, crawled to the running board and 
clung to the outside of the car, a revolver in his free 


THE PASSPORT 


75 


hand, in order to instantly impress any country con- 
stable who might be tempted to dispute the right of 
the party to move through New Jersey at more than 
express train speed. 

The chase did not lead back over the same road 
over which Warden and his friends had come to Pem- 
berton. It lay through miles upon miles of open 
country, then through several villages, the identity. of 
only one of which could be made out because the car 
went through them so fast that there was no oppor- 
tunity to ask any questions. The name of this one 
place, prominently shown on the front of its post office, 
indicated that the pursuit led away from instead of 
back to New York. 

Had an obstacle appeared in the road, in the shape 
of a human, a horse, a cow or a vehicle, nothing could 
have averted a catastrophe. At the rate the pursuing 
auto raced along, the slightest deviation from its 
straight course would have wrecked it. 

Every now and then the men on the motor cycle 
came into view where the road lay clear ahead for 
several miles, and it seemed to Rankin and the others 
that they were steadily gaining on the fugitives. 

Finally the distance between pursued and pursuers 
narrowed down to about four hundred yards along a 
straightaway stretch on a down grade. 

Rankin tried a shot, more with the idea of possibly 
frightening the cyclists into stopping and surrender- 
ing than with the hope of reaching them with a bullet. 

The only effect was, a moment later, when a puff 
of smoke was seen, a faint crack, which showed that 
the pair on the cycle had acknowledged the salute in 
kind. 

With less than four hundred yards between them, 


76 


THE PASSPORT 


and making ready for the pistol duel that seemed to 
be inevitably at hand, Rankin and the others in the 
car suddenly heard the warning gong of a railroad 
crossing. Then a danger sign was seen at the side of 
the road. The motor cycle dashed over the crossing, 
and Rankin was just muttering grimly into the chauf- 
feur’s ears, “We’ll take that chance, too!” when a 
freight train came through a cut in the road and 
effectually blocked further pursuit. 

Mechanically each of the five in the automobile 
counted the cars in that lumbering, slowly-moving pile. 

Thirteen — fourteen — fifteen — sixteen ! 

Rankin thought they would never move by this 
crossing. 

Thirty-seven — thirty-eight — thirty-nine — forty — • 
forty-one — forty-two ! 

By this time the motor cycle had undoubtedly made 
good its escape. 

Forty-three — forty- four — forty-five — forty-six! 
The “sound” of the freight seemed to indicate it was 
nearing its end at that crossing. Forty-seven — forty- 
eight — forty-nine — fifty — fifty-one, the caboose! 

“Keep your eye on the road for the track of the 
wheel, Bob,” instructed the Chief, as the automobile 
shot over the rails, the engine having been kept going 
at full speed while the car stood still waiting for the 
freight to pass. “We may be able to trace them that 
way if their track remains as plain as it is now.” 

The race along the road was continued with slightly 
diminished speed so as to allow Leighton, who had 
taken a seat alongside the chauffeur, to watch the im- 
print of the fugitive cycle’s tire in the mud. 

Several miles were travelled in this manner when 
those in the car became suddenly aware that they were 


THE PASSPORT 


77 


approaching salt water. There was the unmistakable 
smell of brine in the air. The country, too, had 
changed from rolling, inland pastures and vegetable 
plots to a scrubby, sandy waste. 

Leighton, who had not uttered a word as he leaned 
forward with his face close to the glass shield of the 
car, suddenly put up his right hand as a sign for the 
chauffeur to slow down. 

“Ho !” he ordered finally. The car stopped with a 
jolt. 

Leighton leaped from the machine and inspected the 
roadbed. 

From the center of the road, where the track of the 
cycle wheel had last been seen, he walked back some 
twenty feet, closely examining the ground as he moved 
along. 

Chief Rankin and the others turned in their seats 
to watch him and saw the operative mount the em- 
bankment at a point about twenty-five feet back of 
where the car had stopped. After a few minutes spent 
in examining the ground on the ridge he returned to 
the automobile. 

“That motor cycle left the road there,” said Leigh- 
ton, pointing to the spot from where he had started 
his climb of the embankment. “On the top there is no 
sign of a wheel, although there is every evidence that 
the motor cycle was either pushed or carried to the 
top of the embankment. There are a great many foot- 
prints up there but no wheel tracks, and I’m inclined 
to think the machine was carried by the two men so 
as to avoid leaving a trail.” 

After a moment’s deliberation, Chief Rankin stepped 
down from the car, telling Warden, now quite recov- 
ered, to remain with Mary and the chauffeur. 


78 


THE PASSPORT 


“ You’ve got a gun, Harrison,” he said to the driver, 
receiving an affirmative nod in reply, “and you,” ad- 
dressing Warden, “had better take one of mine, as a 
precaution.” With this the Chief handed him a revol- 
ver. “I’m not sure, of course, just what we are up 
against in this thing. Leighton and I will be able to 
take care of ourselves. It is possible we may meet with 
a fight. Don’t leave this car, since you’ve got a girl to 
look after.” He spoke as if he had not quite forgiven 
the young man for bringing a girl into the adventure. 
“Keep an eye open ail around you and take no chances 
with any strangers. Don’t let anybody come near the 
car.” Then, to the chauffeur, “Keep your engine go- 
ing, for it is possible that Leighton and I may have 
to make a run for it.” With that, the Chief and his 
assistant climbed the embankment and were soon lost 
to view over the ridge. 

The afternoon was well advanced by this time and 
the sun was getting lower and lower in the western 
sky. 

“To think that they should have been able to attack 
you,” Mary said, after they had sat silently for a 
while, wondering where the trail was leading the two 
secret service men. “Some of those anarchists must 
have been watching you, dear, all the time. Very 
likely the same men that watched you in Union Square. 
Don’t you think so, Dick?” 

“I am not so sure about that,” he replied. “I really 
don’t jj^nk any of those anarchists who were in the 
New York mob know to this day just what hit them. 
All I do know is that they did not have another meeting 
the following Saturday. They evidently did not care 
to take any chances.” 


THE PASSPORT 


79 


“You don’t think Schmidt had anything to do with 
the attack to-day ?” 

“I am not thinking, dear, I don’t know. I’m rather 
inclined to believe the one that sent the anonymous 
letter to the secret service was the one who had a 
hand in the affair to-day.” 

“But in that case you must have been followed when 
you left New York this morning!” 

“I can swear to it that we were not followed,” he de- 
clared, decidedly. “We travelled over the roads with- 
out another car in sight. No one knew, from me, that 
we would be out here to-day. The secret service men 
certainly did not advertise our plan.” 

“And I have not spoken to a soul on anything but 
home topics since I received word from you.” Mary 
spoke very earnestly. “Dick, it is a terrible position 
for a girl to be placed in, to know her father is mixed 
up in some dishonorable matters and that she cannot 
justify her father’s actions. I have a feeling of utter 
loneliness — except when I think of you. Dick, please 
don’t go to Europe. Don’t let me remain here all 
alone!” She moved closer to him and Warden petted 
her reassuringly on the shoulder. 

“I cannot promise not to go to Europe,” he an- 
swered. “That is the principal thing about the plans 
I have made. What is happening now, as far as your 
father’s and Schmidt’s activities are concerned, was 
quite unexpected. I had intended first making some 
experiments in. this country, in which I did not dream 
either your father or his friends would be interested. 
Sometimes I think my discovery of your father’s real 
identity as Buhrwein, instead of Berwin, has something 
to do with Schmidt’s interest in me. His interest in 


80 


?HE PASSPORT 


me dates from the evening I last visited your home. 
Why, I believe that it was Schmidt who played burglar 
in my rooms the night before the Union Square hap- 
pening.” He fumbled about his pockets. “I think I 
have a souvenir of that night right here with me. I 
mean to show it to my friend Schmidt some day.” He 
produced the piece of torn silk handkerchief that he 
had found on the floor of his hotel apartment. When 
Mary looked upon it she gasped. There was a look 
of such unutterable anguish on her beautiful face that 
young Warden was unable, for the moment, to ask 
her the cause of it. 

“Why ” he began. 

“It is nothing — nothing at all,” whispered Mary, in 
a hardly audible tone. She kept her eyes riveted on 
the torn ’kerchief and only shifted her gaze to look at 
the wondering young man next to her with an expres- 
sion in which terror plainly predominated. 

“What in the world — what has happened now?” He 
looked at her with mingled surprise and concern. “I 
seem to run up against a new mystery every moment.” 

“Dick, I’m afraid to — oh, it is too much, Dick!” 
and she burst out crying. 

“Well, tell me about it, little girl, tell me. It will 
make you feel better than to keep it to yourself. It’s 
something about this cloth. What is it?” 

Mary took the torn ’kerchief in her hands and ex- 
amined it closely. Then she gave it back to young 
Warden, while she looked the other way, without 
speaking. 

“Well, come now,” he pleaded, “what about it? ’Fess 
up. There is nothing in the world that cannot be 
straightened out — except a hunchback.” He tried to 
laugh, so as to bring a smile to Mary’s face also, but 


THE PASSPORT 


81 


it was a hopeless attempt. He realized it a moment’ 
later when Mary made reply after she had first given 
way to a fresh outburst of tears, resting her head on 
his shoulder. 

“Dick, that — that handkerchief belongs to my father ! 
I gave it to him at Christmas. Don’t tell me that a 
burglar left it in your room! Oh, don’t tell me that !" 

A bright thought came to the young man. Not that 
he had the slightest faith in its logic himself, but he 
hoped to impress the being that he loved best in the 
world with a suggestion which he, himself, knew to be 
absurd. 

“How foolish!” he exclaimed, as if with an inspira- 
tion. “Could not your father have lost that muffler 
and could it not have been found by somebody — by the 
man who tried to burglarize my rooms!” 

If the suggestion did not seem to impress Mary 
deeply, it impressed her enough to make her smile 
through her tears. 

“If you think it was a regular burglar that visited 
you, then I guess that would be it. Only, you seemed 
to think the visit was from Schmidt. That is, that it 
was in connection with other things that have re- 
cently happened.” 

Nearly an hour had passed since the government 
officers had left them, and the occupants of the auto- 
mobile were becoming restless. Even Harrison, who 
had been on many trips where patience had been the 
principal desiratum, found the quietude and the ab- 
sence of any sign from his superiors becoming op- 
pressive. A chilling breeze added to their discomfort 
and for a time Mary and young Warden sat without 
saying a word, the girl content to be near the man 
she felt was the only protector she had, and he think- 


82 


THE PASSPORT 


mg of a mother, now gone, and wKa£ she would have 
thought could she have known of the maelstrom of vital 
incidents into which her son had plunged himself. 

Their individual reveries were cut short by the ap- 
pearance of a man approaching along the ridge about 
one hundred yards down the road ahead of them. 

Warden disengaged himself and involuntarily grasped 
his automatic, the chauffeur making the same prepara- 
tions. 

The stranger came within hailing distance of those 
in the car and waved his arm in the way of a pleasant 
greeting. As he came opposite the automobile he 
stopped, still remaining on the ridge. 

“Chief Rankin wants you to drive down to the first 
road on the right and turn in that road till you meet 
him,” he said, with the accent of a foreigner. What 
nationality he was Warden could not feel certain. 

For the fraction of an instant Warden and the 
chauffeur exchanged glances. Each of them for an 
instant had misgivings which, however, disappeared. 
Then Harrison, grunting an almost inaudible “all 
right,” slowly let in the clutch and grudgingly sent the 
car ahead. 

As Warden looked back, for no particular reason 
whatever, to see where the stranger was going, he 
found that the man had disappeared. In the brief 
moment that he had stood before them, the man had 
impressed him as being either a young German or a 
Scandinavian. There was nothing distinctive about his 
dress, although he did not look at all like a field laborer, 
as might have been expected in this section. 

The relief of moving, with some definite destination 
in view, made those in the car forget about the man. 
The turn the latter had indicated was about a quarter 


THE PASSPORT 


83 


of a mile away, and when it was reached, Harrison 
guided the heavy machine slowly up a slight grade over 
what could only by courtesy be called a road. The 
chauffeur had some doubts about the directions, but 
it was the only break in the highway in sight, so up 
the sandy grade he went. 

A steep bank, as if the road had been recently dug 
through the main embankment, flanked both sides. The 
car had almost reached the top of the grade and Har- 
rison was just putting on the final speed to help him 
over the top when four men, two from either side of 
the grade, slid down the banks and leaped on the run- 
ning boards, before those in the car were aware of it. 

One man grasped Mary’s hands and another those 
of Warden, before the latter could use the Chief’s 
revolver, which his assailant at once appropriated. 
The other two men flanked Harrison, each pressing a 
revolver against the chauffeur’s sides and ordering him 
to go ahead until they should tell him to stop. 


CHAPTER VIII 


Those in the car saw a barren waste before them 
as they reached the top of the short climb from the 
road. The monotony of it was relieved only by a small 
building, without so much as a fence or outbuildings 
to give it a habitable appearance. It seemed entirely 
isolated from any other human habitation and its own 
appearance was such that one would hardly have be- 
lieved that it was occupied or that human hands had 
anything to do with placing it on that desolate stretch 
of sand. 

Harrison, under the impressive guidance of the two 
revolvers, ran the car along the sandy patch towards 
the house, stopping about two hundred yards from the 
building, when ordered to do so by his armed guards. 
Warden then noticed for the first time that the fellow 
who was guarding Mary was the young stranger who 
had come to them on the highway with the alleged 
message from Rankin. 

Of two men who came from the house, as one of Har- 
rison’s captors sounded the horn of the car, one held 
a handkerchief over his face and did not advance fur- 
ther than a few feet from the doorway. He jerked at 
the arm of the other man who had come out of the 
building with him, evidently gave the latter some in- 
structions — as appeared from the gestures he made — 
then re-entered the house. 

His companion came forward to the car, but went 
to it in a roundabout way, coming up behind it. He 
spoke in German to one of Harrison’s guards, with the 


THE PASSPORT 


85 


result that the chauffeur was helped down from the 
driver’s seat, had his arms bound behind his back and 
was led a little distance away from the automobile, 
where his ankles were also tied. 

Young Warden was next treated to a similar indig- 
nity, and left standing near Harrison, arms and ankles 
secured. 

The fellow who had come from the house then turned 
and approached the motor car. 

“Sorry to cause you any annoyance, Miss, but it is 
necessary,” he said, addressing Mary. “We will not 
tie you up if you will not make any trouble for your- 
self, but ” 

“Mr. Smith !” There was a world of reproach in the 
tone as Mary turned and faced the man whom she had 
met openly as “Smith” in her father’s New York home 
and whom she knew to be, in reality, Max Schmidt, 
from the secret conversations that she had overheard 
there. “So you have turned highway robber!” 

The girl hoped that, by letting the fellow think she 
believed him only a highway robber, he might possibly 
allow her to go back to New York under promise of 
silence. Then she planned to secure aid for Warden 
and the secret service men. 

The ruse failed of its purpose, however. Schmidt 
was not deceived by the fair girl’s seeming surprise. 

“No, Miss Berwin, that won’t do,” he said, with a 
sneer. “You don’t think me a highway robber any 
more than I do myself. You’re in bad company, for 
your own health. And it is going to be a very hard 
thing to get you out of this mess — in safety. Too 
much depends upon it to allow any one, who has inter- 
fered with affairs that do not concern him or her, to 
return to their ordinary manner of living.” 


< 86 


THE PASSPORT 


“Where are the other gentlemen of our party?” 

“The other — gentlemen,” began Schmidt with a sneer 
in which intense hatred was all too evident, “the other — 
gentlemen? Oh, they have been taken care of. They 
are just as comfortable as those two over there,” point- 
ing to Warden and Harrison. 

The men guarding Warden and the chauffeur were 
called over to the house by the man with the ’kerchief 
just then, leaving the two pinioned prisoners standing 
together by themselves. 

“May I get out of the car?” asked Mary. “I have 
become terribly cramped and chilled.” 

“If you keep away from the house — yes,” returned 
Schmidt, almost reluctantly. “But stay near the car.” 

“How long are we going to be detained here?” 

The fellow laughed outright, the first time that a 
sign of mirth had come over his almost bestial face. 

“Detained?” He laughed again as if the very sug- 
gestion of it was ludicrous. “Why, I don’t know how 
long you’ll be — detained ! That isn’t for me to say.” 

Mary climbed out of the tonneau. 

“For who is it to say, then? For — for my father?” 
There was hesitation in the inquiry, as if the girl did 
not want to ask the question but was forced, by some 
subjective control, to do it. 

The effect of it on Schmidt was instantaneous, how- 
ever. He looked very serious. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he repeated, hastily. 

Then he, too, was called to the house. 

Mary walked leisurely around the car so as to pass 
Warden and the chauffeur. As she passed the former, 
the former spoke to her with intense earnestness. 

“Listen — Mary — and remember everything I say — 


THE PASSPORT 


87 

carefully. Under the seat — in the tonneau — a blue 
bottle — saturate your mask from it — better also satur- 
ate two other masks while you’re about it — if you have 
the chance. Then — one of the brown vials. Be very 
careful with it. On your life don’t open or drop it 
until you have your mask on. If you can, get to the 
house before they come out. Throw the brown vial 
with all your might against the entrance, but — for 
God’s sake — be sure you strike something that will 
break it. Hurry — it’s our only hope, I’m afraid.” 

Without betraying the agitation under which she was 
laboring, Mary walked quietly away from where the 
two men stood. Her impulse was to fly to the car and 
follow Warden’s instructions with feverish haste. She 
was able to control herself, however, and with every 
muscle set for accelerated movement she strolled, de- 
liberately, almost carelessly, in a round-about way, to 
the machine. 

She took from the tonneau a wrap which she put 
about her neck with much ostentation and then ap- 
peared to look for something else to put around her 
shoulders. 

As she bent over the tonneau seat a second time she 
worked with haste, saturating three masks and placing 
one of the little brown vials, its stopper carefully pro- 
tected with wire, in her muff. Two of the masks she 
let lay on the seat while the third she placed in her 
muff also. 

But a few minutes had elapsed since Schmidt had 
been called to the house. No movement had come 
from the building, the front door of which remained 
open. Mary, instead of walking directly to the house, 
walked in a zig-zag course so that, with each tack, 
she approached nearer and nearer to the house. 


88 


THE PASSPORT 


In this way she had come to within twenty feet of 
the entrance when — she was compelled to sneeze. 

Almost on the same instant Schmidt rushed to the 
door from within, evidently startled by the proximity 
of someone outside. 

As the German appeared Mary, with remarkable 
quick wit, threw the brown vial at the flagstone that 
served as a threshold for the house. With equal pres- 
ence of mind the girl adjusted her mask before the 
bottle reached its mark, where it burst with a crash. 

Schmidt made one step forward and then fell pros- 
trate on his face. No one else came from the building. 

The instant Mary had adjusted her own mask she 
ran as fast as she could for the car, snatched the two 
masks from the rear seat and rushed to Warden and 
Harrison. She wanted to put the masks to their faces, 
but Warden said it was not necessary. 

“Not now,” he said. “The quantity used is not suffi- 
cient to reach us here. The house and the area around 
it only are affected by that little vial. First of all, 
get the knife out of my pocket and cut these ropes, 
dear. Cut them at the knots only, for we will need 
those cords very likely.” 

In a twinkling both were free>^ They gathered up 
the ropes and then adjusted their masks. 

“Now for the house!” said Warden as he and Har- 
rison led the way to the building in front of which 
Schmidt was lying, stretched out at full length. 

A glance towards the rear of the house showed the 
searchers that the building stood almost on the ridge 
of a sloping dune that brought up, less than a quarter 
of a mile away, on the shore of the bay. It was appar- 
ent to the two men of the little party that they were 


THE PASSPORT 


89 


at or very near Sandy Hook, and to the westward of it, 
for none of the settlements near the main entrance to 
the harbor were visible from their point of vantage. 

“Looks to me as if we’re at the Horse Shoe, some- 
where near the Highlands,” volunteered Harrison. 
.Warden, less familiar with the topography of the 
country thereabouts, had no better suggestion to offer. 

The tying of Schmidt’s hands and feet, as a return 
compliment for the indignity they themselves had suf- 
fered, was done conscientiously and with no regard for 
the later comfort of the fellow. 

Next the two men and Mary entered the mysterious 
house. There were two rooms on the ground floor, one 
of them evidently used as a kitchen while the other — 
which also served as the entrance to the building — 
contained only a rough table, a bench, two ordinary 
wooden chairs and an old, delapidated arm chair from 
the worn-out upholstery of which there protruded a 
mixture of straw and excelsior on all sides. 

There was no sign of life in the front room, but in 
the kitchen, which also had a table, a bench and several 
wooden chairs, and the door to which was wide open, 
Warden and his companions found five men, all of them 
unconscious. One, whom they recognized as the 
stranger who had lured them from the highway, had 
fallen from the bench on which he had been sitting, to 
the floor. The man next to him had evidently fallen 
forward on his arms and lay over the table, as if 
asleep. Three other men lay limp in chairs on the 
other side of the room from the connecting door. 

Mary had remained at the door leading from the 
front room to the kitchen. Her self-possession and 
presence of mind, so admirably preserved during the 
critical moments of the preceding half hour, were now 


90 


THE PASSPORT 


fast deserting her, womanlike, once she felt that the 
safety of her companions and herself no longer de- 
pended upon her. So, while Warden and the chauf- 
feur were examining the inanimate group in the kitchen, 
taking from the men their revolvers and knives, Mary 
stood still — or as still as she could, for she was swaying 
involuntarily — holding on with grim determination to 
the door casing. 

Warden was lifting the head of the man who was 
lying across the table and was taking a look at the 
features when he happened to glance behind him. As 
he saw Mary’s weak condition he laid the man’s head 
gently on the table again and quickly went to her. His 
expression, as he had noted the features of the uncon- 
scious man, was one of intense perturbation, made no 
less so when he saw the condition of his sweetheart. 

“I will have Harrison run the car close to the house,” 
he said, supporting the now trembling girl and leading 
her gently to the open. He called to the chauffeur and 
a moment later the car was at the side of the house and 
to the windward of it. “Sit in the car, well wrapped 
up, until Harrison and I find the Chief and Leighton. 
No further use of the mask now. Breathe the cool air.” 

The chauffeur suggested that Warden remain with 
Mary so as not to leave her entirely unprotected in 
case of an emergency, a suggestion that found partial 
favor with the young man except that he insisted that 
Harrison should remain in the car with the girl since 
he alone knew how to run the machine. 

Returning to the house, Warden first thoroughly tied 
the hands and feet of four of the men in the kitchen. 
He did not bind the man whom he had found lying over 
the table. Then, cautiously ascending the creaky stairs 
that led from the kitchen to the floor above, he peered 


THE PASSPORT 


91 


over the edge of the floor into a room the door of which 
was wide open and on the floor of which he saw lying 
two men. 

He at once recognized Rankin and Leighton. 

Rushing into the room, he quickly untied the cords 
that held the secret service men and then went to a 
window, from which he called to Harrison to help him. 
Between them they carried the limp forms of the Chief 
and his assistant into the open air, on the other side 
of the house, where they would not be in sight of 
Mary. Then Harrison returned to the car while War- 
den resumed his exploration of the upper floor of the 
house. 

Except to And that the two rooms contained four 
cots and were evidently used at times for sleeping quar- 
ters, although of the most rudimentary type, the upper 
floor of the house disclosed absolutely nothing note- 
worthy. 

There was then, thought Warden, only to wait for 
Rankin and Leighton to come to their senses. He 
went outside again. Rankin would decide what to do 
with the six prisoners. This arrangement did not seem 
feasible to him a moment later. It would be almost 
four hours before those now unconscious would come 
to. Also, it would be quite dark by that time and 
then the impossibility of taking all of the six men in 
the car besides his own party presented itself. Young 
Warden hit upon another scheme. 

“I’ll take the Chief’s badge,” he said to Harrison. 
“You take Leighton’s. We’ll put the Chief, Leighton 
and this fellow Schmidt in the rear seat and tie two 
of the others to the seats in the middle. Miss Berwin 
will sit in front with you and I’ll hold the unconscious 
ones in their places from the running board, t We 


THE PASSPORT 


92 

should be able to make Pemberton in less tlian an hour 
anyway; we will put the three prisoners in jail there 
and come back here before sunset. By that time the 
Chief and Leighton will have recovered, for I shall give 
them something, if there is a pharmacy in Pemberton.” 

The secret service men and three of the prisoners — 
Schmidt among them — were put in the machine and, 
after an hour’s fast driving, the party stopped in front 
of the County Jail at Pemberton. 

Warden showed his badge and spoke briefly to the 
jailer, who agreed to lock the three men in separate 
cells and to keep them incommunicado until the Fed- 
eral authorities should call for them the following day. 
The jailer wanted to tell about the day’s happenings 
in Pemberton, but all the young man cared to know 
was what had happened when the anarchists recovered 
their senses. 

“Oh, they were hooted out of town,” said the garru- 
lous keeper. “They were the most sheepish-looking lot 
you ever saw as they took the train back to New York 
about half an hour ago. It was a mighty strange hap- 
pening, take it from me, and I’ve been in Pemberton 
a good many years, and — and I’ve never seen nothing 
stranger happening hereabouts. I was saying to my- 
self that it was a miracle, a downright miracle. Why, 
anybody would know what it was !” 

While the car stopped at the town garage for an 
additional supply of oil, Warden visited the town phar- 
macy so called — although it was run as a side line by 
the general storekeeper — for some drugs. On the run 
back to the house on the sands he administered the 
antidote. This, and the fresh air that they had been 
breathing, restored both men to consciousness before 


THE PASSPORT 


93 


the car reached the cut in the highway leading to the 
isolated dwelling. 

At first neither Rankin nor Leighton had the slightest 
recollection of the events through which they had 
passed. Both only remembered the departure from 
Pemberton after the assault on Warden. With the 
latter’s assistance, he refreshing their memories, both 
men soon recalled their pursuit of the motor cycle and 
then their leaving the car in the road while they 
essayed to track the fugitive wheelmen over the sand 
dunes. 

Suddenly the chief almost jumped from his seat. 

“I remember now,” he shouted. “By Gad, we must 
get back there and quick ! How many did you take to 
the jail?” he asked, excitedly. When told the number, 
he asked: “How many did you say there’s still at the 
house? Three? Yes, that’s it. We saw six of them. 
Two came up from below. Yes, now I remember.” 

“From below where?” asked Warden. 

“From the cellar — through a trap door. Boy,” very 
earnestly, “we’re on the track of something big , very 
big. That house is a blind. Something underneath 
that house. You may have rounded up the whole 
gang and then, again, there may be any number more. 
I cannot figure it out.” 

“But how underneath , chief?” insisted Warden, 
breathlessly. 

Rankin’s manner was so unusual that even the chauf- 
feur, hardened to many uncanny adventures, leaned 
back his head so as to catch the words that were spoken 
behind him, without losing sight of the road ahead. 

“There’s a plant — a factory — something connected 
with that house— underneath. I remember some of the 


94 . 


THE PASSPORT 


talk now. It wasn’t counterfeiting, which I thought at 
first it might be. I remember one of those fellows say- 
ing it was something only Germans could think up. 
And it’s against the government, whatever it is, for 
they were all the time using the words ‘dam Yankees’ 
while they pow-wowed in the room below the one in 
which Leighton and I were put. When Bob and I came 
to the house, feeling pretty sure the motor cycle had 
been carried there from the road where we left you, 
we found the door open. We had our guns handy and 
walked in very carefully. Just as we got inside four 
men fell on us and had us powerless before we could 
pull a trigger. Then one of them, whom they called 
Max and who evidently knew me by sight and name, 
told one of the gang to go to the automobile and give 
the driver a message from me, ordering him to drive 
ahead and giving the directions which you evidently 
followed. I remember hearing your horn once or twice 
after that and the next thing I knew I fell asleep, but 
first we heard part of what they were discussing down- 
stairs.” 

Warden smiled, notwithstanding the evident serious- 
ness of the adventure. 

“You did not think I would put you to sleep so soon, 
did you, chief?” 

“No,” said Rankin, with a dry little laugh. “I didn’t 
know it then, either. Just fell asleep, that’s all.” 

The car here turned into the cut in the road, ran up 
the grade at full speed and continued to the door of 
the house. Harrison held out the masks to the others. 

“Not necessary any more,” said Warden. “The 
fumes have flown away long ago. It’s very strong and 
powerful at first, but it is quickly dispelled, although 


THE PASSPORT 


95 * 


the effects on those who get it on the first application 
last for about four hours.” 

Mary, who had quite recovered her self-control and 
her “nerves” by this time, and who now looked upon the 
day’s happenings as a thrilling adventure that she 
would not have missed for the world, joined the others 
in the entry of the mysterious building. 

Warden had almost forgotten something of which he 
was suddenly reminded just as the party was about to 
enter the kitchen. 

“Stay in this front room — please,” he asked of his 
sweetheart, caressing her cheeks. “Please don’t come 
with us just now.” 

“But there is nothing horrible about it, now that 
we are all safe,” insisted the girl. “I want to see every- 
thing. I helped, just as if I was one of you men, this 
afternoon, and I think you ought to let me remain 
with you now !” With that, the young woman pushed 
him into the kitchen after the others. 

Rankin and Leighton were lifting up the man who 
had been lying forward over the table. Mary entered 
the room just as they were setting him bold upright on 
the bench. 

As the girl saw the face she gave a piercing shriek 
and fell in a dead swoon. She would have gone to the 
floor had not Warden held her. He placed her gently 
in the old arm chair and applied ammonia, the only 
restorative he had at hand, to her nostrils. Harrison 
brought a flask from which some brandy was forced 
between her lips. Rankin did not take kindly to the 
occurrence. He was not at all sympathetic. 

“That’s what you get having women around with 
you on a case,” he growled disgustedly. 


96 


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When Mary came out of her fainting spell she 
sobbed piteously. 

“My father! My father!” she moaned, her body 
rocking backward and forward while she covered her 
face with both her hands. 

“Her what ?” demanded Rankin, looking up from his 
investigations in the other room. 

“Yes, her father,” said Warden, reflecting in his 
face the utter misery of the situation that he felt. To 
spare Mary the additional humiliation of the Chief’s 
angry comments, he went into the kitchen, holding a 
finger to his lips, warningly. 

“Did you know this, before she saw him?” again de- 
manded the Chief, looking at the young man search- 
ingly. 

“I did — when Harrison and I came in here before, 
to get you and Leighton out, after she had made it 
possible for us to save you. That — that was the rea- 
son I did not tie him up.” 

“To let him get away, eh?” 

“No, chief, not for that — just because he was her 
father. I knew he would not wake up before we came 
back. We tied up the others as a matter of form. It 
was not really necessary.” 

“Dick, did you know her father was mixed up in this 
German plot, whatever it may be?” 

“I knew.” 

“And then you take the daughter into your confi- 
dence! A fine line of reasoning!” There was some- 
thing of contempt in the secret service’s man’s tone. 

“You forget just one thing, Chief,” replied young 
Warden, testily, “that the United States Secret Ser- 
vice would probably have gotten busy on this Germau 
plot after its consummation instead of before — if it 


THE PASSPORT 


97 


had not been for what Miss Berwin Cold me and which 
I transmitted to you !” 

Having seen the point of the argument and the jus- 
tice of it, Chief Rankin was not the kind of man to 
stick stubbornly to his own impressions. 

“You’re right,” he said, putting a big, pudgy hand 
on the younger man’s shoulder. “But you did not tell 
me anything about her father being mixed up in the 
thing.” 

“I hoped that Berwin might be scared off when he 
learned that the government was after his crowd.” 
Warden’s voice was broken as he looked into the other 
room, at the pitiful, huddled form in the arm chair. 
“Poor, poor little girl. It’s going to be very hard for 
her in a little while. Very, very hard.” 


CHAPTER IX 


It was a strange group that sat around the kitchen 
table in that lonely house. Two oil lamps gave out a 
sickly light, one from a shelf on one side of the room 
and the other from its hook suspended over the table. 

At one end sat Chief Rankin. At the other Berwin 
— or “Boorwine,” as the detective insisted on calling 
him — now entirely recovered, with Leighton on one 
side and young Warden on the other. Near the win- 
dow sat Mary, slowly rocking her body without moving 
the chair, in evident great mental distress, while in an 
opposite corner sat the two other prisoners, handcuffed 
and tied to their chairs. Harrison stood at the door 
of the outer room, keeping guard over the automobile. 
It was a sort of court martial and police “third de- 
gree” process rolled into one, with Rankin as the in- 
quisitor, but lacking both persecuting and defending 
counsel. 

Berwin sat perfectly erect, almost soldier-like, and 
decidedly defiant. The man did not even have a kindly 
glance for his daughter, whom he evidently believed to 
be responsible for his dilemma, because of her associa- 
tion with young Warden. That he felt intense hatred 
for the latter, there was no doubt. Every now and 
then a furtive glance of the bitterest resentment was 
directed towards the young man at his elbow. 

“If you will tell us all that you know of this affair 
there’s every chance that the government will deal 
lightly with you,” spoke Rankin, addressing the pris- 


THE PASSPORT 


99 


oner at the other end of the table. “Will you make it 
easy for the government and for yourself?” 

Berwin directed his cold, impassive eyes towards the 
Chief and held them there before he replied. His atti- 
tude was such that one could well imagine the man 
standing up, erect, with his heels clicking as he came 
to attention. 

“I have absolutely nothing to tell you.” He uttered 
the words very slowly and with distinct emphasis on 
each syllable. 

“What is under this house? demanded the inquisitor. 
Then, before the other could reply, had he wished to 
do so, “Will you tell us how this trap opens or must 
we tear down the house to find out?” 

A shrug of the shoulders was all the answer the 
prisoner would vouchsafe. 

Mary had been anxiously looking at her father and 
now she bent forward, tears in her eyes and a great 
earnestness in her every movement. 

“Father — please — I beg you — please tell them what 
they must know. And you — you are an American now, 
too, besides being my dear father. Please tell every- 
thing. It is right they should know. I do not want 
my father to be in trouble. Please tell them.” The 
girl sat very still, her eyes on Berwin, her mouth partly 
open, waiting eagerly for his words. 

Slowly Berwin turned his gaze to his daughter. 
There was no gleam of loving recognition in his eyes 
as they met hers, however. 

“Some day,” he spoke in almost a monotone, “you 
will realize what you have done.” 

“But I have done nothing — nothing except to love 
Dick. And Dick is interested in some great plan that 
will prevent untold misery in the world. I have chosen 


100 


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to follow him. I never dreamt to see you Here — like 
this!" There was an agonizing despair in the last 
words as the girl buried her face in her hands again. 

Berwin did not answer nor did he show any emotion 
at his daughter’s impassioned appeal. There was, 
however, a peculiar, comprehending light in his eyes 
as she spoke of Warden’s plans. It seemed as if some- 
thing had just come to him that he had not, before this, 
been able to fathom. 

Chief Rankin was showing signs of impatience and 
finally brought his hand down upon the table in front 
of him. 

“We’re not getting any further this way and I pro- 
pose to get further!” he said. “Now, Miss Berwin, if 
you are strong enough to go home I’m going to send 
you to Pemberton in the car. There you can take a 
train for New York. If you are not strong enough, 
Mr. Warden can accompany you, but I would rather 
keep him here with me. I want you to promise me not 
to say a word to anyone, not even to your mother, 
about anything that happened to-day. It will be much 
better for everybody concerned, especially your 
father.” 

“I — I can go alone,” said the girl in an almost inau- 
dible tone. “I shall not say a word to anyone.” 

She got up from her chair, adjusted her wraps and 
moved towards the door leading to the other room. In 
passing, she laid her hand gently on her father’s shoul- 
der and stooped to kiss his hair. Berwin did not stir 
in his seat nor did he seem to take notice of the caress. 

Warden arose and walked out after Mary. As he 
passed Berwin he held the piece of the muffler he had 
torn from his assailant the night of the attack in the 
hotel. Berwin winced as he looked at the cloth. 


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101 


Rankin gave the chauffeur his instructions. Then, 
while Leighton remained to guard Berwin, Rankin and 
the chauffeur helped the two manacled prisoners into 
the tonneau, where they were tied securely. Mary 
was to sit in front with Harrison. The prisoners were 
to be left at the jail with the others and Harrison, 
after dropping Miss Berwin at the railroad station, 
was to get something to eat and put in a supply of 
sandwiches for the company in the house on the dunes. 
He was also ordered to purchase an iron lever bar, such 
as is used by railroad track-layers. 

Before entering the machine, Mary turned to Chief 
Rankin, her hand on his arm. 

“You will not be harsh with — with my father?” she 
faltered. 

“He’ll have no cause to complain of my treatment, 
Miss Berwin,” replied the secret service man. “I hope 
for you that everything will turn out alright.” 

After kissing her and pressing her hands in his own 
for a moment, Warden went back into the house with 
the Chief and the car disappeared down the grade for 
the road to Pemberton. 

Chief Rankin lost no time in getting to work on the 
mystery that confronted him. After the daughter’s 
departure, he decided that it would be safer to hand- 
cuff Berwin, so that he and his two assistants might 
have their hands free to search the lower floor for the 
entrance to the regions supposed to be beneath. Ber- 
win was, accordingly, manacled and tied to a chair as 
the best way to prevent either an escape or an attempt 
at rescue — should others, heretofore not met with, 
show upon the scene. 

Sounding the floor with a hammer that was found 
in the kitchen failed to bring forth any desired results. 


102 


THE PASSPORT 


The floor was evidently well-laid, even though the build- 
ing, from the outside, appeared to be ramshackle. 
There were two chimneys in the house, entirely out of 
proportion with its other arrangements and the fact 
that there was no fireplace at all and only a stove-pipe 
connected with one of the two pieces of masonry, caused 
the secret service men some conjecture. There was, 
apparently, no opening in one of the two chimneys 
along its upward course and its usefulness could not 
be guessed at by the men. Lack of tools made it im- 
possible for Rankin and the others to pry open what 
looked as if it might be a trap in the kitchen floor but 
the cracks around which were almost invisible. 

The two detectives and Warden had resigned them- 
selves to wait for the return of the car and the proper 
tool with which to complete their search when, sud- 
denly, there was a peculiar, rasping noise that seemed 
to come from nowhere in particular and yet appeared 
to have been made not far away from where they were 
seated in the kitchen. 

Leighton had risen to his feet at the first noise and 
was looking at liis Chief, who also had a puzzled ex- 
pression on his face, when Berwin was seen to act in a 
most extraordinary manner. In a sitting posture, with 
his manacled hands tied to the back of the chair and 
his feet also bound with a cord to the legs of that piece 
of furniture, he was making desperate efforts to trip 
himself over sideways. 

Not knowing just why, Rankin leaped upon the pris- 
oner and was in time to prevent the man and chair 
from toppling to the floor. 

“You’re up to something, eh?” growled Rankin, un- 
der his breath. 


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103 


Berwin gazed involuntarily at a space in the floor 
near the connecting door. Then he suddenly raised his 
voice to an unnatural and ludicrous height. 

“I was not,” he screamed. “You cannot ” Ran- 

kin had clapped a heavy hand over Berwin’s mouth. 

“None of that!” he hissed. “You can’t attract at- 
tention that way, my man.” 

Leighton moved over quietly and a gag was quickly 
placed over Berwin’s mouth. 

“If we had the car here I’d let you give him some- 
thing to make him sleep,” said the Chief to Richard. 
“You don’t carry it about with you, do you?” 

Warden shook his head by way of negative reply. 

There came a repetition of the noise they had heard 
before. It now sounded very plainly as if chains were 
being clanged together. 

“What the devil do they call this? Ghosts?” said 
Rankin, with a queer little laugh. 

He had hardly uttered the jest when that portion 
of the flooring, in the direction of which Berwin had 
been looking, rose up, like a platform about six feet 
square, each corner supported by an iron or steel brace, 
disclosing an elevator on which stood a young man. 
From the appearance of his face and hands, grimy with 
oil, and his clothes, he was evidently a machinist. 

The newcomer’s body was but half above the floor 
level when he saw the others and, undoubtedly scenting 
trouble, he reversed the clanging chain that controlled 
the motive power for the lift. 

Rankin was too quick for him, however. In a flash 
he had thrown the bench half way through the breach 
in the hidden elevator opening as a wedge, at the same 
time covering the man on the platform with his re- 


104 * 


THE PASSPORT 


volver. The top of the elevator, forming the detached 
piece of kitchen flooring, came down on the bench with 
a grinding noise. 

The revolver proved sufficient inducement to the man 
from below to send his lift upwards again. The fellow 
stepped off the moving platform into the room, with his 
hands held above his head. 

“What have you been doing?” asked Rankin, of the 
new arrival. 

There was a bewildered look, which seemed to be di- 
rected especially at the bound figure of Berwin. 

“ Verstehe nicht was all that came from the be- 

grimed one. 

Rankin had seen the look of doubt in the direction of 
Berwin and he told Leighton to take Berwin into the 
other room and guard him there. Then he closed the 
connecting door and he and Warden, both of them un- 
derstanding German, proceded to question this latest 
addition to the mysterious colony, in his native tongue. 

“Where do you come from?” was the first question 
launched at the young chap by the Chief, the latter’s 
desire being to learn what part of the building the ma- 
chinist had recently left behind him. 

“Prom Europe — Germany — I was brought here to 
do machinist work eight months ago,” replied the man. 
He then volunteered the information that he was work- 
ing for the Fatherland and that the work required 
secrecy. He was being well paid, he said, but he was 
supposed to be content with remaining where he was, 
without leaving the building under any circumstances, 
at least not until his employers were ready to send him 
back to Germany. 

“And where in Germany did you work?” asked 
Rankin. 


THE PASSPORT 


105 


“In Essen, in the submarine shops,” was the calm 
rejoinder. 

“How many men are down below?” asked Richard, 
pointing downward, through the floor. 

“Twelve, besides myself, now,” the machinist replied, 
after a brief calculation. 

“Now?” asked Rankin. “How many are there other 
times, then?” 

“About a hundred,” replied the fellow, laconically. 

Rankin was completely stunned by the information 
secured from this young man, who seemed to answer in 
a perfectly candid manner, and without the slightest re- 
serve or hesitation, every question that was asked of him. 

“How is it that you are willing to answer our ques- 
tions?” Rankin finally managed to say. It was the 
first time that an inquisition had gone so smoothly in 
his long career as a detector of crime and he could not 
possibly understand it. 

The machinist shrugged his shoulders. 

“I suppose I will get in trouble if I lie,” he said in 
a matter-of-fact tone. “I have had trouble enough. 
I have been here eight months and they have not treated 
me right. I want to go back to Germany. You will 
send me back to Germany if I tell everything right?” 

“You keep right on and tell us everything and you’ll 
get back to Germany alright,” said Rankin, smiling. 
“Where does that elevator lead to?” 

“To the shop.” 

“And what are they doing in the shop now?” asked 
the chief. 

“Working on the boat.” 

“What boat?” 

“U54. The one that put a hole in that big warship 
two nights ago.” 


106 


THE PASSPORT 


Rankin and Warden looked at each other. 

Two nights before, the Oklahoma , newest of dread- 
noughts, had been reported as having had an explosion 
on board which killed a dozen of her men. The explo- 
sion was a mystery and had not been accounted for 
although it had been stated, unofficially, that the big 
battleship might have been out of her course and have 
struck a submerged rock or else that a drifting sub- 
merged derelict had collided with her. 

So this was the explanation of the Oklahoma's 
mishap ! 

Rankin felt miserably handicapped at not having 
more witnesses present at this strange recital. Both 
he and Warden felt that revelations of a most amazing 
character were at hand, revelations that would have a 
great directing force in the future action of the Ameri- 
can government. 

“You — you mean that there is a shop — a machine 
shop — for the repair of submarines — below ?” asked 
Rankin, incredulously. 

“Oh, yes. I’ve worked in the shop for eight months 
now and sometimes business is very brisk.” 

“How far down is this shop?” It was Warden who 
took a turn at the questioning. 

“About thirty metres.” 

“And how big is it ?” 

“About sixty metres long and about nine or ten 
metres in diameter. It’s round.” 

“Why did you come up on the elevator just now?” 

“To get my orders for the night. It’s my night on 
watch.” 

“How long has that shop been down there?” asked 
Rankin eagerly. 

“Oh, a very long time. It was there long before I 


THE PASSPORT 


107 


came there and I’ve been there eight months. Rut I 
want to go back to Germany.” The young fellow 
looked eagerly around for the first time since he had 
been under examination. He suddenly lost some of his 
stoicism. “Can I leave here now, go outside?” he al- 
asked, almost pleadingly. 

“When we get through with you, yes,” replied the 
Chief. “But we need you for a while yet. What are 
those two chimneys for?” Rankin pointed to the ma- 
sonry part of the wall. 

“One is for the fresh air to come down there,” said 
the machinist, pointing downward. “The other is for 
the air to get out from down there.” 

“And the elevator? How does that work. What 
power do you use?” asked Richard. 

“Electricity,” the other replied. 

“Where do you get the electricity?” insisted 
Warden. 

“They make it from the ocean water,” was the calm 
reply. 

“From the ocean water? What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know but they told me they made it from 
the water. It’s salt, you know.” 

The examination of the young German was still in 
progress when Harrison returned with the car. While 
the lever bar was no longer necessary the provisions he 
brought were welcome. A case of bottles in the corner 
of the kitchen, containing the amber fluid which Ger- 
mans may be depended upon to have in handy prox- 
imity always, solved the question as to how the sand- 
wiches could be washed down. 

“I think that you had better attend to Berwin,” sug- 
gested Rankin after Harrison had deposited the sand- 
wiches and other things on the table in the kitchen, 


108 


THE PASSPORT 


and Warden had asked the detective whether Mary’s 
father should be brought in to have some food. “First 
you might ask him whether he cared to eat a couple 
of the sandwiches, however.” 

The prisoner in the next room declined the proffered 
food with a show of contempt. 

“Fix him up, Dick,” repeated the detective. “Then 
we will be free to eat and talk and he’ll be quiet for 
some hours.” 

Warden, assisted by Harrison, placed Berwin in the 
automobile. First, he had taken one of the little brown 
vials from under the tonneau seat. With Berwin seated, 
the machine was run a hundred yards away from the 
house, Warden and the chauffeur adjusted their masks 
and the former broke the bottle on one of the car’s hubs. 
The automobile was then run back to the house and 
Berwin, again quietly sleeping, was placed on the floor 
in a corner of the front room. 

The machinist, whose name was Fecht, joined enthu- 
siastically in the consumption of the food that had 
been brought from Pemberton. It seemed to the se- 
cret service men and Warden that the young man felt 
relieved rather than disturbed over the new direction 
his affairs had taken. 

It was the question of how to overcome the twelve 
men said to be in the “shop” below that puzzled the 
detectives most. To wait until the next day seemed in- 
advisable, for Fecht told them that a much larger gang 
might come to work again any time if the “business” 
r — as he termed it — warranted the extra force. 

“I don’t know about the other men,” finally said 
Fecht. “My brother is there and I know that he wants 
to get out of this work, too. There are three small 
men who will not be able to do much against you three 


THE PASSPORT 


109 


but eight others are pretty big men and may make 
trouble.” 

Fecht did not know whether there were any weapons 
in the “shop” besides the large numbers of rifles and 
revolvers that were stored in cases. He himself had 
never carried a weapon and neither had his brother 
but he did not know about the rest of the machinist 
crew. He and the twelve, he said, were all in the 
“stranger” class. The large emergency gang that 
sometimes worked in the “shop” came from the city, 
wherever that was. The “strangers” all remained vir- 
tual prisoners in the plant, those not on watch at night 
sleeping on the upper floor of the house, guarded over 
by four men who always remained on guard duty in 
regular reliefs. These four men, said the machinist, 
were probably the men fche detectives had told him had 
assaulted them in the car and who had later been taken 
away. 

It was finally decided to bind Fecht just as they had 
bound the other prisoners, for his own protection. 

“If they find you bound and a prisoner,” said Ran- 
kin to the young man, “they will not suspect that you 
have told us anything. Even though one of us may 
ask you questions never answer us if there are any of 
your fellow workmen present. For your own good do 
not let any of them know that you have said anything 
to us. If they knew, you would not last long after 
you are free to go back to Germany. When the time 
comes we will give you an opportunity to escape so 
that your record, as far as your countrymen is con- 
cerned, will be perfectly clear. You understand that, 
don’t you?” 

Fecht understood and submitted to the operation of 
binding without a murmur. 


110 


THE PASSPORT 


He told Rankin how to use the elevator and gave 
other directions to the secret service men as to where 
to go when they should reach the bottom of the shaft. 

Rankin arranged that he and Warden — upon whom 
the secret service Chief had come to look as a valuable 
asset and effective addition to his staff — were to go 
below, while Leighton and the chauffeur should remain 
to guard against eventualities. Warden, of course, 
provided himself with several of his vials for use in 
case of emergency. Both he and Rankin were fully 
armed with automatics, held conveniently in their coat 
pockets, although young Warden, being a man of 
peace, hoped fervently that he would not need to use 
the deadlier of the two weapons that he had about him. 
They planned to call Fecht’s brother as soon as they 
landed below, as if they were there on business with 
the plant and desired to speak to one of the workman. 
The brother, being a sort of foreman, would naturally 
be the one they would consult with. Rankin and War- 
den depended upon their ability to speak German to 
carry them through the first stage of their dangerous 
mission nearly one hundred feet underground. 

“You two had better wear your masquerade cos- 
tumes,” said Rankin to his assistant and Plarrison. 
“We may have to use that stuff of Richard’s quick 
down there and then you two might be out of the game 
before you knew it, if the fumes should come up. Put 
one on Fecht, too.” 

To the accompaniment of the same rattling of the 
chain that had first attracted their attention, the Chief 
and Warden descended in the lift, now dark as pitch 
during the trip downward, until the car stopped with 
a little thud at the bottom of the shaft. 

Rankin felt around until he struck a handle which 


THE PASSPORT 


111 


proved to be the hold of the bar that held an iron door. 
Lifting it, he pushed open the door and the two men 
stepped into what, under ordinary circumstances, 
would have been called a typical machine shop. 

At some distance from them several men were work- 
ing. The “shop,” which was all of the sixty metres in 
length that Fecht had given it, appeared to be divided 
in several sections. It was, apparently, a huge tube, 
the walls and the ceiling meeting in a dome for its full 
length, with a flooring that was interrupted here and 
there with big gaps where almost the complete circle 
of the structure was visible. Both Rankin and Warden 
braced themselves for the task of getting the better of 
the workmen in the place without recourse to a battle 
for life which, of course, it was bound to be should the 
twelve elect to defy the two strangers. 

Finally Rankin nerved himself for the first act of 
aggression. 

“Fecht!” he called out in a firm and authoritative 
tone. 

One of the men immediately detached himself from 
the others and, wiping his hands on his mechanic’s 
apron, stepped forward. The other workmen near him 
looked up from their work for an instant, as workmen 
are wont to do when strangers appear in their shop, 
but then immediately resumed their work again. 

“Young man,” said the Chief, as the workman came 
close, and speaking in his most carefully selected Ger- 
man, “there is trouble upstairs. Step over here a mo- 
ment,” indicating a spot where a piece of machinery 
would hide them from the view of the others, “your 
brother is a prisoner. No, nothing will happen to him 
and nothing will happen to you, if you do not make any 
outcry. Both of you will be permitted to go back to 


112 


THE PASSPORT 


your country in peace, if you behave yourselves. We 
are government officers and we have pistols pointed at 
you now, so don’t make a false move on your life.” 

The fellow was too surprised to speak and mutely did 
as he was told, standing back of the machinery, without 
protest, while Warden searched him under Rankin’s 
expert directions. The Chief himself, the while, cov- 
ered the man with his revolver. 

“Now give me the name of another man to call, 
quickly !” spoke the detective. Fecht gave the desired 
information, quite perfunctorily. 

“Wehrbohm !” called out Rankin. 

The man answering to that name stepped forward. 
The sight of the revolver and his foreman standing 
dutifully aside was sufficient reason in Wehrbohm’s 
mind for him to follow suit. Warden again went 
through the process of searching and then covered both 
men with his revolver as Rankin, having received a third 
name, called it out. 

In this way they got five prisoners, materially re- 
ducing the odds against them in the underground shop. 
German-like, the prisoners stood quietly, almost as if 
they considered it a matter of course, phlegmatically 
obedient under superior authority. Then Rankin de- 
manded to know what communication there was with 
the house and was told, by Fecht, that there was a 
speaking tube alongside the elevator. Leaving War- 
den to guard the five men, the Chief whistled through 
the tube and got Leighton. 

“I’ll send the elevator up,” he told his assistant. 
“Come down with as many bracelets as you have up 
there. Leave Harrison on guard and better keep your 
mask handy, although we haven’t had to use ours — 
jet.” 


THE PASSPORT 


113 


Just for luck, Rankin got another name, called it 
out and “bagged” a sixth victim. 

Then Leighton stepped out of the elevator and five 
of the prisoners were handcuffed with their hands be- 
hind their backs, placed in the elevator and taken above 
by Leighton, the latter being instructed to secure the 
men with cords, of which he took a supply from the 
shop, and return at once with the “bracelets” again. 
Fecht was kept below as he could be made useful by 
the Chief. 

Upon Leighton’s return he found four more sullen- 
faced Germans lined up as prisoners leaving but two 
workers still at large. After the four were secured 
with the cuffs, the remaining two were called and at- 
tended to without any greater trouble than had marked 
the capture of the others and what Rankin had looked 
upon as an extremely hazardous job had been accom- 
plished without a shot, a blow or the use of Warden’s 
secret “sedative.” 

Foreman Fecht having told the Chief that he was the 
one who generally looked after the running of the 
plant, the care of the machinery, ventilating apparatus 
and the safeguarding of the pumps, Rankin decided to 
keep him below until he finished his investigations there. 
The other prisoners were sent above with Leighton and 
to Warden was assigned the task of accompanying the 
secret service Chief. 

The machine shop appeared, quite evidently, to be a 
model of completeness and mechanical ingenuity. Hav- 
ing in mind the desolate house on the dunes overhead, 
Rankin and his young aide could not help but marvel 
at the thoroughness of the equipment here, far under- 
neath the sandy waste, and wonder how all this ma- 
chinery could have been brought to the subterranean 


114 


THE PASSPORT 


shop without attracting attention outside. Then, too, 
the very construction of this huge tubular affair seemed 
an utter impossibility without anything ever having 
been hinted of it in the outside world. 

There were drill presses, lathes, electrical welding 
machines and compressed-air hoists of the most intri- 
cate and delicate patterns. The place was well lighted 
with electricity — the regular Tungsten lamps being 
used at the various machines besides several clusters 
suspended from above at regular intervals along the 
entire length of the shop — making the big tube as light 
as if the men working in it were in the open instead of 
deep down under the surface of the earth. 

In the center of the shop there was a space devoted 
to a series of blocks, very evidently there for the pur- 
pose of having some heavy machinery rest upon them 
from time to time. 

“That,” said Rankin, pointing to the blocks, “is 
for ” 

“The submarines,” interrupted the foreman. “When 
they come in for repair they are put on the blocks.” 

“How do they come in?” questioned Warden, taking 
up the inquisition, since Rankin seemed unable to ask 
more than one question without first waiting to give his 
brain, fairly bewildered at this seemingly impossible 
achievement, time to frame another. 

“Through the locks,” said Fecht. “They’ve got 
four locks, three inside and one at the end. You see 
these bulkhead doors. They’re worked on hinges with 
heavy rubber gaskets to close them tight. When the 
boat comes in from the sea it goes through the outer 
lock into the first compressed-air chamber. First the 
three inner bulkheads are closed and compressed air is 
sent into the three chambers. Then the outer lock is 


THE PASSPORT 


115 


slowly opened and water replaces the air in that cham- 
ber. When the boat is inside, the outer lock is closed 
and the water forced out of the chamber. When all 
the water is forced out, the second set of bulkheads is 
slowly opened and the air pressure equalized in the two 
further chambers. In the chamber between the fresh- 
air room at the shaft-end of the shop, and the one in 
which there is the compressed air after the entrance of 
the boat, there are two rooms through which the work- 
men pass so as to get accustomed to the different pres- 
sures. They can’t pass into the compressed air cham- 
ber with the biggest pressure at once. And they can’t 
pass out into the fresh air at once, either. Only those 
examined by the doctor and passed by him can go in 
for this work and .they only stay an hour or so at a 
time. The doctor looks everybody over. He is always 
by the air shaft when there’s a boat for repairs.” 

“How many boats have they got, altogether?” ven- 
tured the Chief. 

“Four,” was the reply. “There’s another shop like 
this down the coast, w r ay south of here, thousand kilo- 
meters or so.” 

Rankin and young Warden looked at each other in 
amazement. 

“Is that — are you quite sure that’s all they’ve got?” 
finally asked the Chief. 

“That’s all I ever heard of,” said Fecht. 

“How did they build this thing?” This from Ran- 
kin as he craned his neck in all directions, wonder- 
ment written plainly on his face. 

“I don’t know,” replied the foreman. “You can ask 
Wehrbohm. He’s been here the longest of any. I 
guess he helped build it.” 

Rankin inspected the construction of the tube 


116 


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closely. It was evidently an all-steel affair, sectional 
steel rings, bolted together and forming a perfect tube. 
There was no moisture to be found, except in the fur- 
thest compartment — now part of the whole since there 
was no submarine to call for the closing of the bulk- 
head doors — which was damp in spots because of the 
more or less fequent inlet of water upon the arrival 
of one of the undersea boats. There was absolutely 
not an inch of wasted space in the “shop” and not a 
speck of rubbish could be found in the length and 
breadth of it. Every part of the intricate machinery 
was clean and shiny — highly polished where there was 
brass — and no evidence anywhere of dripping oil or 
accumulation of metal dust. The thing was incompre- 
hensible. Rankin several times believed that he was 
still under the influence of Warden’s mysterious “se- 
dative,” dreaming this wonder dream of mechanical 
and inventive skill, hidden under the earth, a secret 
weapon against those who, since they had known how 
to fight, had always fought in the open. He was eager 
to know just how long it had taken the Germans to 
construct this secret steel cave, for he felt — although 
not versed in mechanical construction — that no plant 
as thoroughly built as this one was, and as fully and 
splendidly equipped, could have been completed ex- 
cept after many long years of silent, secret work and 
even then he could not understand how it could have 
been done at all without an inkling of the truth ever 
leaking out. 

Warden, too, after having started out from his col- 
lege studies on a definite mission, now suddenly found 
himself thrust into an unheard-of maze of mystery 
and intrigue, notwithstanding himself. Following one 
particular course, he had found himself suddenly forced 


THE PASSPORT 


117 


into another, although there was a certain satisfaction 
in the knowledge that his discovery had proved its 
worth and that this fact alone augured well for what 
he hoped to accomplish in a much wider field of en- 
deavor. 

Their inspection ended, the Chief, accompanied by 
Warden and the foreman, made ready to ascend to the 
house overhead. The ventilator fan was doing its work 
of sucking the fresh air from the open into the shop 
below and, apparently without any outside agency to 
keep them going, the electric lights shone forth 
brightly. With inborn German thrift and discipline, 
just as if there had been no interruption in the rou- 
tine of the shop through the coming of the government 
officers, Fecht said he wished to throw a switch so as 
to reduce the number of lights, leaving three isolated 
lamps going in the long tube. 

“Saving on the electric light bill, eh?” smiled Rankin. 

“Orders are to leave but three lights burning when 
going off duty,” was the complacent reply of the 
German. 

“It’s orders, not reasoning, with these fellows, Dick,” 
said the detective to young Warden, speaking in Eng- 
lish. “And it’s following orders, without reasoning, 
that is going to be the undoing of the whole outfit be- 
fore these fight-mad Germans are through with their 
war.” 

Rankin told the foreman that he would keep him 
covered with his revolver when they reached the house, 
so that none of the others would think that he had 
volunteered any information or assistance to the detec- 
tives. The man seemed to understand this friendly 
consideration for his well-being and he acknowledged 
it with a grunt. 


118 


THE PASSPORT 


The night was now advancing and all hands were 
tired. The workers in the shops were due to turn in, 
under normal conditions, but this could not be since 
Rankin considered it unsafe to remain at the house any 
longer without a stronger force of his men in case of 
the sudden arrival of a large number of the Germans. 

A little conversation between the Chief and Warden 
resulted in all of the Germans except the two Fecht 
brothers and Wehrbohm — from whom Rankin hoped to 
get some additional information — being taken outside, 
some two hundred feet from the house, and there scien- 
tifically treated by young Warden. Harrison was, 
thereupon, sent upon a hurried night ride to the Pem- 
berton jail with another car-full of inanimate prison- 
ers, with instructions to get back as quickly as possi- 
ble for the remainder of the party. 

While the first batch were being taken to the jail, 
Rankin, assisted by Warden, questioned Wehrbohm, 
urging upon the man to tell what he knew and thereby 
save himself and his fellow workers in the shop yfrom 
running foul of the government. Wehrbohm, a t^ical, 
stolid German, refused at first to even notice the speech 
of either the detective or young Warden. Finally he 
made reply that what he had been doing was for the 
Fatherland and could not, therefore, be discussed by 
so humble a subject as himself. When it was pointed 
out to him that he would save himself, his fellow work- 
ers and thousands of other Germans in America much 
misery by speaking and allowing the government to 
take steps to stop the work of the conspirators at once, 
he relented somewhat and even began to show a small 
degree of interest. It took long and persistent ques- 
tioning by both Rankin and Warden to get together 
an account of the building of the underground shop 


THE PASSPORT 


119 


and of its gradual equipment. Warden took copious 
notes and finally pieced together a more or less com- 
plete narrative. 

The work of building the shop was begun seven years 
before. It was begun and continued from the house 
where they then stood and it took a long time because 
it had to be done very slowly. Strangers who hap- 
pened around were turned away with as little fuss as 
possible. In hot weather, when boating parties often 
came around that way, the men in the house maintained 
a small soda-water stand in front of the building to 
throw off any suspicion. Wehrbohm came to the place 
just as the first work of digging a shaft was about to 
begin. The digging of the shaft was a very slow task, 
as well as a hard one, because it had to be done under 
cover of the house. It was particularly hard because 
the dirt removed had to be distributed over the sands 
at night and there was no digging or hoisting machin- 
ery possible at that stage because they could not use 
steam or other power that would have called attention 
to the work. The earth was taken out in buckets, all 
by hand, until the shaft was deep enough to begin the 
work of installing the elevator. The steel pieces for 
the lift as well as for the tubular construction came 
from the city, piece by piece, in covered wagons, owned 
and driven by those in the conspiracy. The pieces 
were ordered in different steel plants and delivered to 
different private addresses in the city. The makers 
did not know where the pieces were ultimately destined 
for. They received the drawings, from which the pieces 
were to be made, through private individuals. Fire 
had to be guarded against in the general plan of avoid- 
ing all publicity. Sondetimes row boats were used for 
the smaller material and when the shaft was finished 


120 


THE PASSPORT 


there had been stored up in the house a large quantity 
of steel ready to be bolted in place. The creating of 
the least suspicion had to be avoided or else there 
would have been talk about the house in the neighbor- 
hood. 

“How was it possible for you to get electric light 
down there to work with, after you had the shaft dug?” 
asked Warden, eagerly, at one stage of the questioning. 

“Everything is possible — to the German engineers.” 
A semblance of fanatical national pride controlled the 
reply. “There was no chance for them to get electric 
light from the outside for the electric light company’s 
inspectors would have been around on some pretext or 
other and then everything would have become known. 
So they got the electricity out of the ocean. As we 
got more room to work in more men were available. 
The steel pieces were bolted in place and foot by foot 
the shop was built. When we got one compartment 
finished we put in the air compressors, the power for 
which we obtained from storage cells.” 

“But how did you get the storage cells ?” asked War- 
den. Rankin, not being of a mechanical or scientific 
mind, readily gave way to his young aid in the matter 
of bringing out this technical information. 

“We got electrical energy from the salt water by 
the use of carbon and zinc such as form the elements 
of a salamoniac battery. By having a great number 
of these carbon and zinc elements, and a motor with 
specially designed windings, such as we got, we obtained 
enough energy to run a direct current generator. This 
generator,* in turn, charged our storage batteries and 
from these storage batteries we secured enough power 
to run our machinery and secure light. In this way, 
later, we solved the problem of securing sufficient mo- 


THE PASSPORT 


121 


live power for our machine shop without the necessity 
of using steam or gasoline which would, of course, have 
attracted attention from the outside. Once through 
with the first compartment, the building of the next 
was comparatively easy work. So on with the third 
and the fourth. It was not so hard to assemble our 
machinery. That was bought privately at different 
times by different individuals and was carried here piece 
by piece. Secrecy had to be observed in getting the 
pieces into the house but, once in the house, it did not 
take long to get them into the shop and put them 
together.” 

“And in all this time no strangers came this way?” 
asked Rankin. 

“I did not say so,” replied the German. “Many 
strangers came this way and all were turned away 
without suspicion. Three of them, about four years 
ago, found their way into the house, saw too much and 
were commandeered.” 

“Commandeered? How?” There was surprise in 
the secret service man’s voice. 

“Compelled to remain and work,” was the laconic 
rejoinder. 

“Just made prisoners, is that it?” 

“No, they were Germans and so w§re compelled to 
work for their country, that’s all. Only, they were 
forced to do so. They never left the place since they 
came around that day, four years ago — until now. 
Here’s two of them,” pointing to two of the inanimate 
forms on the floor. “The other one went in the car 
you sent away.” 

“Where were their homes?” asked the detective, in- 
credulously, 

“In the city, I think,” The German was speaking 


122 


THE PASSPORT 


in a matter of fact tone. “Their folks were notified 
that they were safe but that they could not return 
home for some time.” 

The elder of the Fecht brothers — the foreman — told 
the detectives later that Wehrbohm, like himself and 
his brother, had had enough of the virtual imprison- 
ment in the secret German machine shop and was in- 
clined to regard the coming of the government officers 
with philosophical resignation. Rankin had hopes, 
therefore, that the three men, and possibly some of the 
subordinates among the prisoners, would be able to give 
valuable secret information regarding the doings of 
what appeared plainly to be a well-organized conspir- 
acy against the American government. 

The automobile having returned, the remaining un- 
conscious prisoners were placed in the rear of the car 
with the three Germans, Leighton and Warden, while 
Rankin took his place by the side of Harrison. The 
Chief did not care to grant the elder Fecht’s request 
that he be permitted to remain to guard the plant. As 
there was no way in which Rankin could secure a force 
of government officers for the place that night, he had 
to leave it unguarded, trusting to luck that no other 
conspirators should get there before he could send a 
suitable squad of watchmen later in the morning. Cas- 
ual visitors, even if they broke into the house, which 
was unlikely, would discover nothing since the elevator 
platform was let down flush with the floor, the detec- 
tives having learned that a secret spring in the kitchen 
room would work the lift even though there should be 
no one in the shop below. The shutters were bolted 
and the door locked — and quietly sealed by Rankin — 
and the party started on its way to the city, by way 
of Pemberton, there to leave the inanimate prisoners 


THE PASSPORT 


123 


with the others already in the jail. Wehrbohm and 
the Fecht brothers the Chief decided to take to New 
York with him. 

On the drive to the city Warden, sitting beside 
Wehrbohm, secured additional and highly interesting 
data from the man. Among other things, he learned 
that the torpedo boats announced their intention of 
entering the shop for repairs by means of submarine 
signals. W T hen on the surface they spoke by wireless 
to the house. 

“But I saw no wireless equipment there,” commented 
the young man, surprised. 

“In the attic, close to the roof,” replied the German. 
“The antenna wires there lead down through the chim- 
ney into the kitchen.” 

“I did not see anything of the sort in the kitchen,” 
expostulated Warden. 

“You saw a stove pipe there, didn’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, the wires run through that pipe into the 
stove, where the receiving apparatus is kept.” 

The stop at Pemberton had been made and the car 
was rolling over the New Jersey roads in the direction 
of the metropolis. As the lights of the city came into 
view from an elevation on which they were at the time, 
the eyes of the three Germans fairly popped out of 
their sockets at the sight. One of them, Wehrbohm, 
had been an exile from civilization for seven years. 
The other two had arrived in America during the day- 
time and had been brought directly to the house on the 
dunes so that the night illumination of a great city was 
a wonderful revelation to them. The amazement of 
the three was increased during the crossing of the river 
on the ferry-boat and their bewilderment knew no 


124j 


THE PASSPORT 


bounds as the car swung through the canyons formeH 
by the miles of sky-scrapers on the way to one of the 
uptown hotels where Rankin proposed to put up until 
they could go to the New York headquarters of the 
secret service. 

“All this,” remarked Rankin, casually, to Wehr- 
bohm and his two German co-workers, as he swept his 
hand around so as to take in all of the surrounding 
architectural development, “all this your friends are 
planning to destroy — for what?” 

Wehrbohm shrugged his shoulders as the only means 
of indicating his ignorance of the reason. 

“You knew that what was being done in your shop 
was against this country, didn’t you?” persisted the 
secret service head. 

“It was not for us to know,” replied Wehrbohm. 
“It was for us to obey orders.” 

At the hotel the party was installed in a suite of 
rooms, Rankin, Leighton and Warden relieving each 
other for brief snatches of sleep while one always 
guarded the three Germans. These, however, hardly 
needed a guard for they slept like worn-out beings in 
the first soft bed they had known in a long time. 

Rankin made arrangements early in the day with 
the customs authorities for a squad of forty picked 
men, to be sent to the house over the underground shop. 
Great care was taken that no man either German born 
or with German sympathies should be among them and 
all of them were sworn to the strictest secrecy. 

The Chief and Leighton were, later in the day, tak- 
ing the three Germans through an outer office in the 
New York headquarters of the secret service when 
something occurred that caused Rankin great concern. 
It brought home, more forcibly even than the discovery 


THE PASSPORT 


125 


of the subterranean machine shop, the knowledge that 
the conspiracy against the American government was 
as insidious as it was wide-spread. 

Rankin had opened the door leading to the private 
office of the Chief of the local division when Mosser, 
one of the operatives who had been identified with the 
visit of Warden to Washington some weeks before, 
came out of the inner room. 

Both Wehrbohm and the elder of the Fecht brothers 
looked up when they saw him as he passed hurriedly by 
and Rankin noticed the expression of surprise, even 
alarm, on the face of his operative. 

“What is he doing here?” asked Wehrbohm, throw- 
ing a thumb mechanically in the direction taken by 
Mosser. 

“That is one of my men.” Rankin did not himself 
know why he answered so anxiously. 

Wehrbohm cast a glance at the Chief for a moment, 
almost insolently. 

“You knew about the shop a long time, then?” he 
suggested. 

“Not until yesterday. Why should we have known 
of it before? What has that man,” pointing back to 
the outer room in the direction taken by Mosser, “to 
do with it?” 

“He’s been around the shop many times in the last 
couple of years. We always took him for one of our 
officers. He gave orders the same as Buhrwein and 
Schmidt. Guess he wasn’t one of your men, though, 
for he was the one to send word to get that new war- 
ship the other night.” 

Leighton, not understanding the language, failed to 
grasp the significance of Wehrbohm’s words but he 
could plainly see that something greatly disturbed his 


126 


THE PASSPORT 


Chief. The latter, his face livid, gave orders for Leigh- 
ton to stay with the three Germans and then hurried 
out. A moment later he re-appeared with Mosser, 
whom he ushered into the room where the prisoners 
stood with Leighton. 

“Here’s your friend.” The Chief addressed Wehr- 
bohm, a queer smile on his face. 

“Well, we’re glad to see you again,” said the Ger- 
man, “how goes it?” 

Mosser tried hard to retain his self-assurance. “The 
man is crazy. He does not know me. What is he 
talking about ?” He spoke huskily and there were huge 
beads of perspiration on his brow. 

“He says,” came slowly from Rankin as he looked 
searchingly into the face of his uncomfortable subor- 
dinate, “that you have been around a certain secret 
machine shop, used for the repair of German subma- 
rines, under the dunes of New Jersey, many times dur- 
ing the last few years. Plow about it?” 

Mosser hesitated a moment. He saw that both 
Wehrbohm and the elder Fecht had disclosed their ac- 
quaintance with him, for Fecht nodded pleasantly, with 
a brief word in German as a greeting. 

“Well,” in a tone that was not over-confident, “well, 
I had hoped to keep the matter quiet until I could land 
them good and proper,” he finally blurted out. “It was 
a job on my own hook which I thought might bring 
me promotion.” 

“Promotion where?” fairly hissed the Chief. “In 
the German Foreign Office?” 

“No, no !” Mosser’s knees began to give way under 
him. “Right here, from — from you.” 

“After knowing of the thing for two years you did 


THE PASSPORT 


127 


not think that the existence of that plant in itself was 
sufficient ground for action?” 

“I — I was already to report on it,” stammered 
Mosser. 

“And I suppose,” said Rankin, advancing threaten- 
ingly upon the fellow, “you were also ready to report 
on your part in the attack on the new Oklahoma three 

nights ago? You ” he made as if to strike the now 

thoroughly frightened Mosser, “you damned scoun- 
drel!” 

Mosser started to back out of the room. 

“Place that fellow under arrest! Shackle him and 
shackle him good!” shouted the Chief to Leighton, the 
later almost stupefied by the revelations of the last 
few moments. 

Late that afternoon Rankin, Leighton and Warden, 
having in their charge four prisoners, were on their 
way to Washington to lay the whole affair before the 
President and the Cabinet. 


CHAPTER X 


Following the bare announcement, that somehow 
leaked through, to the effect that a new ruling by the 
[War Department prohibited any military organization 
from drilling with or without arms and from possess- 
ing any arms of any description, within the confines of 
the United States without the knowledge and permis- 
sion of the local Federal authorities, the correspond- 
ents in Washington were sent scurrying around the 
capital in search of more detailed information on the 
subject. There were, at the same time, many rumors of 
strong representations having been made to a foreign 
power oh some matter which neither the President nor 
the members of his official family would discuss. In 
fact, it was given out at the White Plouse and the va- 
rious Departments, that nothing unusual had occurred 
to mar the even routine of affairs in Washington and 
none of the correspondents could say positively that 
he had found even a suggestion of a secret conference 
between the President and his advisers. 

Had any of the astute gatherers been about the cor- 
ridors of the big Hotel Powhatan two evenings after 
the first announcement came from the War office, they 
would have seen a man, with a soft felt hat pulled well 
over his head and his coat collar turned up as high as 
it would reach, enter the spacious foyer of the Pow- 
hatan, take an elevator for an upper floor, and make 
his way to a suite upstairs, escorted by a secret service 
operative who met him at the landing. 


THE PASSPORT 


129 


Entering the room, the newcomer was met by a well 
set-up young man, showing strength in both his face 
and physique but in whose expression there was some- 
thing indicating great responsibilities — far greater 
than his evident youth seemed to warrant. He ex- 
tended his hand with a courteous inclination of the 
head. 

“I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. 
Warden,” spoke the visitor, in a low, pleasant voice. 
“Very glad, indeed, after what I have been told you 
have done in the public service.” 

“And I am honored by your visit, Sir, and regret 
only that it was found necessary for you to come here 
instead of my coming to you,” was the reply. 

It was the first time that the President of the United 
States had visited a private citizen, in Washington, 
on a matter of the gravest importance to the country. 
It had, however, been decided that it would be best to 
have this conference between the nation’s chief execu- 
tive and young Richard Warden held secretly and in a 
place where the alert correspondents would not be lia- 
ble to get wind of it. The managers of the Powhatan 
had not, therefore, been taken into the confidence of 
the authorities and the President made his way to the 
rooms of young Warden quite unobserved. Only his 
secretary, Chief Rankin and his bodyguard were in 
the secret. 

Warden went over with the President all of the inci- 
dents that had begun with the conversation he had 
overheard on the top of the omnibus in New York, and 
ended with the capture of the workmen in the hidden 
machine shop under the New Jersey sand dunes. 

The President was, evidently, greatly impressed with 
Richard’s narrative. He watched the young man 


130 


THE PASSPORT 


closely and was struck with the boy’s earnestness of 
purpose and his ability to cope with new and startling 
eventualities. Both were at their ease. 

While the mere fact of having the ruler of the nation 
visit him on official business instead of his making the 
visit on the President would have caused the average 
youth either to stammer in confusion or swell up with 
importance, to Warden the situation was quite natural. 
Matters of the utmost importance to the country were 
under consideration. As these matters could not be 
solved without a departure from established etiquette, 
it mattered little to Warden whether the President 
called on him or he on the President — as long as the 
country secured that which it had a right to demand 
from her sons, which both he and the President were. 

After a conference that lasted several hours, the 
President said that he would like to offer young War- 
den a minor diplomatic post, from which he would be 
able to work up, some day, to represent his country 
abroad. The latter shook his head, however. “I re- 
gret that I cannot consider your very generous offer, 
Mr. President,” he said. “My plans are such that I 
could not take a government position, at least at pres- 
ent. I cannot tell you — yet — of those plans but I ded- 
icate their success to you, Sir, as the advocate of peace 
and good-will to others. I cannot do better than to 
wish that I may return to you, some day, after the ac- 
complishment of my ideals, and that I may then be 
permitted to work out, with you, a plan for the per- 
petuation of these ideals.” 

The President smilingly commented on this little 
speech by saying that Warden spoke in riddles. 

“To give you the answer to the riddle now,” replied 
Warden, “would be to compromise your neutrality as 


THE PASSPORT 


131 


well as that of the United States. I can promise you, 
however,” he added, when he saw the look of surprise 
on the President’s face, “that there is nothing in my 
plans that would cause any peace-loving man to hesi- 
tate adopting them, even though a government might. 
Perhaps, later, you may find a way for the government 
to adopt them also.” 

The President left the Powhatan as quietly and as 
unobserved as he had come and the Washington corre- 
spondents, some of them possibly at the very moment 
enjoying themselves in the grill downstairs, got no 
inkling of the strange meeting that had taken place 
over their very heads. 

It was not until a week later that the press of the 
country began to take notice of the fact that some- 
thing mysterious was going on. When reports came 
in, from widely separated points, of the seizure of arms 
and ammunition, often discovered in secret hiding 
places, newspaper statisticians suddenly awoke to the 
fact that there must have been a tremendously large 
military force in the United States about which the 
average citizen had never heard. 

One morning, newspaper readers were startled when 
they read that, in Milwaukee, a depot containing some 
thirty thousand uniforms, helmets, rifles and some three 
million rounds of ammunition, had been raided by gov- 
ernment inspectors and the whole equipment confis- 
cated. Simultaneously there came reports from points 
along the Canadian border, telling practically the same 
story and these were followed by reports of govern- 
ment raids at Cincinnati, St. Louis, Pittsburg and a 
large number of towns in the eastern states. 

With reports still coming in, the totals in the num- 
bers of uniforms, rifles and — almost invariably — the 


132 


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helmets seized reached over a million. Gradually the 
truth came out. All this gigantic military equipment 
had belonged to German quasi-military organizations, 
sharpshooters’ societies, vereins of this and vereins of 
that. In no case was there the slightest hint that the 
equipment was for any other purpose than ‘‘social di- 
version” and, except in cases where watchmen inter- 
fered with the raiding government officers, no arrests 
were made. 

It was not a matter of public knowledge, however, 
that the government had discovered and confiscated a 
great submarine machine and repair plant for subma- 
rines within the very harbor of New York and another 
in one of the smaller and unfrequented inlets on the 
Florida coast. Nor was it generally known — in fact 
it was not known at all outside of a very small circle 
of government officials — that six undersea craft of 
modern construction had been found, fully equipped 
and ready for instant use, lying on the bottom of the 
sea in these two localities. 

So grave did the President consider the situation 
that he did not dare to make the matter public. Un- 
usual precautions were taken to keep all knowledge of 
the steps taken to thwart the secret enemies of the 
country from those who might allow the truth to creep 
out before the government was fully prepared. 

The news that Germany was gaining over her allied 
enemies in Europe did not tend to make the President 
and his advisers feel more at ease. It was plainly with 
German victory abroad in view that the conspiracy had 
been brought almost to a focus in the United States. 

In the selection of those whom the President consid- 
ered should be taken in the administration’s confidence, 
the greatest care had to be taken. Congressmen and 


THE PASSPORT 


138 


Senators of known German sjunpathies were carefully 
eliminated and those whose leaning was not absolutely 
known were subjected to a searching inquiry, outside of 
their own knowledge. Never before had such an emer- 
gency presented itself and every precedent was nullified 
in the careful handling of an extremely delicate sit- 
uation. 

Although it had been proven to the satisfaction of 
the Chief of the United States Secret Service that the 
German official representatives throughout the country 
were fully aware of all that was going on, no steps 
could be taken against them without at once showing 
the hand of the government and virtually leading to a 
declaration of war. 

This, the President desired to prevent at all hazards, 
at the cost of everything save the humiliation of the 
American government. For this reason no attempt 
was made to interfere with Von Stamm, although he 
appeared often at the State Department in his offi- 
cial capacity as “counselor” to the German Embassy. 
Neither was Bachmann interfered with, although both 
he and the counselor were continually under the eye of 
the secret service men. 

For the same reason, Berwin — or Buhrwein — , 
Schmidt and three other men were being held in secret 
confinement, as if the earth had swallowed them up, in 
connection with the attempt to destroy the new Ameri- 
can superdreadnought Oklahoma, The plan of the 
government was to keep these men in secret confine- 
ment until a formal demand should be made by the 
German representative for information regarding them. 
It was the earnest hope of all those in the secret, from 
the President down, that this formal demand would be 
delayed, for it could only be followed by a public reve- 


134 


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lation and — a consequent straining of relations between 
the United States and the Kaiser’s government. 

The President and his little following of confidential 
advisers were doing their utmost, in the meantime, to 
prepare the country for the shock that seemed inevita- 
ble. 

Unofficially, official Washington — or that part of it 
in the great secret — became pro-ally to the fullest de- 
gree. Unofficially, official Washington began to hope 
and pray for the success of the allied arms and for 
Jhe crushing of the Teutons. 

The overhearing of a personal conversation on the 
top of a New York omnibus and the accidental dis- 
covery of a hidden inscription on the back of a photo- 
graph had had momentous sequels. In fact, these two 
little incidents in the life of a young college graduate 
promised to have as great effect on American history 
as the cackling of the geese had on the history of Rome. 

While Warden remained at the Powhatan, where he 
received visits from Chief Rankin whenever that official 
was in Washington, letters came regularly to him from 
Mary, each of them breathing the deepest devotion 
while unconsciously reflecting the girl’s great sorrow 
over the disgrace that had overtaken her family. 

Pie had descended for breakfast on a Tuesday morn- 
ing when a letter was handed to him, which stated that 
Mary and her mother would be in Washington that af- 
ternoon and would put up at the Powhatan also during 
their stay in the capital. His heart leaped with delight 
at the prospect of again seeing his sweetheart and he 
was about the corridors for hours before he finally saw 
Mary and her mother leave a motor car and enter the 
hotel. 


THE PASSPORT 


135 


Any misgivings that he might have felt over meeting 
the mother were soon dispelled for Mrs. Berwin was 
apparently glad to see the young man and quickly put 
the latter at his ease. 

“Look upon me merely as Mary’s mother,” she told 
him. “Neither Mary or I are responsible for the dread- 
ful things that have happened and both of us pray 
that the plans that were made under our roof may 
never see completion. We are here on a difficult mis- 
sion, a very difficult one. We have been told by the 
German Embassy to make a demand for Mr. Berwin 
or for information regarding him, although neither 
Mary or I had gone to the German Embassy for assist- 
ance in regard to Mary’s father. We thought we 
would come to you for advice, for Mary said that you 
would know just what to do.” 

He decided that the only thing to do would be to 
have Mary’s mother tell her story to Rankin and let 
Rankin decide whom to consult — either the White 
House or the State Department. He thereupon de- 
spatched a messenger to Rankin’s office with a request 
for that official to drop in at the Powhatan for an im- 
portant conference. 

The Chief arrived after the three had lunched and 
at once began the inquiry that should prove the first 
step in the airing of the conspiracy charges. 

Mrs. Berwin told the story of the conversation i* 
Washington the night that Mary had overheard it and 
which formed the basis for Mary’s telegram to Richard 
urging him to meet her in New York at the first oppor- 
tunity. The “dreadful thing” that Mrs. Berwin had 
protested against but which she had not communi- 
cated to Mary when the daughter had asked her about 
it, was the proposed sinking of the new Oklahoma off 


130 


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Sandy Hook, which, as had since been learned, had 
been attempted unsuccessfully. 

The woman declared that she had no personal desire 
to interfere in the least degree with the handling of the 
case by the American government and further stated 
that, inasmuch as her husband had formally become an 
American citizen, had voted for many years and was 
not, as far as the United States laws were concerned, a 
subject of the German Emperor, she did not believe 
the German Embassy had any rights in the matter of 
Mr. Berwin’s present predicament. The Chief held to 
the same opinion and said tnat he would at once lay 
the matter before the proper authorities. 

While the inquiry into the status of Mr. Berwin pro- 
ceeded without any apparent publicity, Warden spent 
some of the happiest days he had yet known, in the 
company of Mary and her mother. Oftentimes the 
young chemist and his sweetheart would take long 
jaunts into the surrounding country and the lives of 
the young couple — which had, up to the eventful even- 
ing in the Berwins’ New York apartment, run in such 
diametrically opposite directions — daily grew more 
closely interwoven. 

On one of these walks through the suburbs the young 
couple were witnesses to an occurrence that caused a 
feeling of deepest indignation to sweep over the country 
among loyal Americans. It was about ten o’clock in 
the forenoon when, far to the eastward, a great, gray 
object was seen in the sky. Cigar-shaped and with a 
trail of vapor in its wake, the object sailed through 
the skies in a due westerly direction and Warden soon 
made out a huge balloon of the Zeppelin type. 

Eve^where in the vicinity the wildest excitement 
prevailed. The airship was coming, apparently, di- 


THE PASSPORT 


187 


recti y over Washington. As it moved, at a consider- 
able height, over the country where Mary and Warden 
found themselves, little rolls of paper with weights 
attached fluttered to earth. One of these little rolls 
was picked up by a man nearby where they were stand- 
ing, and the finder unrolled the paper tube in Warden’s 
and Mary’s presence. 

A message, very evidently set up in type in Ger- 
many, was printed, in English, on the paper. They 
read: 

We are on our way to visit the Pacific 
Coast. Sorry we cannot stop for a visit — 
now . This Zeppelin is the “ Deutschland 
TJher Alles .” Auf wiedersehn! 

“Another sample of German arrogance and heedless- 
ness of the recognized rules of war,” commented War- 
den. “They know as well as anybody that an airship 
of a belligerent must not fly over neutral territory 
and yet they brazenly send a Zeppelin over the country 
just to show that they can do it.” 

The djrigible was a monster affair — probably the 
newest Zeppelin, secretly built for long-distance travel 
— and went through the air without perceptible move- 
ment. There appeared to be an armored “cabin” 
underneath the gas bag and Warden imagined he saw 
a gun barrel protruding at one end. 

That same afternoon reports came from various 
places in southern Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, telling 
of the overhead passage of the balloon and the finding 
of the printed messages on the ground, showing that 
the airship was travelling at high speed. From one 
Ohio town came the still more sinister information that 
the Zeppelin had made a landing in a lonely section 


188 


THE PASSPORT 


nearby and taken on a quantity of fuel and provisions 
which had, evidently, been awaiting the German dirigi- 
ble’s coming! 

Then, several days later, came the report of the 
Zeppelin’s flight over San Francisco and other Pacific 
Coast ports and its departure in the direction of 
Mexico. 

Representations made by the Washington govern- 
ment to Mrs. Berwin, as had been previously arranged, 
showed beyond a doubt that her husband was an Ameri- 
can citizen and that, if any official demand should be 
made by ‘ the German government on his behalf, Mr. 
Berwin would be placed in the position of being consid- 
ered a dangerous spy. It was pointed out to Mrs. Ber- 
win that it would be better for her to let the govern- 
ment take its course quietly and in due form. Mrs. 
Berwin, it had also been arranged, should show this 
reply to her demands if she were again asked about it 
by the German Embassy and it was expected by the 
Federal authorities that, in this way, an official break 
with the German representatives could be avoided. 

Because of the critical state of affairs in his own 
country, Warden had deferred his departure for Eu- 
rope for several months and the snow was beginning to 
disappear — with mild, spring weather taking the place 
of the bleak, wintry blasts — when the reports from the 
European battle-fields again told of fresh onslaughts 
by both sides with consequent tremendous loss of life. 
The cabled stories were ominous in the extreme, from 
the American viewpoint. Holland was finally being 
dragged into the struggle, because the Germans, des- 
perately in need of an opening to the North Sea oppo- 
site the British shores, were, according to rumors, pre- 
paring to force her eastern frontier as well as the 


THE PASSPORT 


189 


southern boundary between the Netherlands and Bel- 
gium. With Austria no longer to be counted on as an 
ally because of the Italian horde piling over her south- 
ern lines, Germany was preparing, so the reports had 
it, for one great blow at Britain and, to this end, had 
decided to overrun Holland as she had overrun unfor- 
tunate Belgium. The result was that the interned Brit- 
ish and Belgian soldiers within the Dutch boundaries 
were hastily equipped to assist the Hollanders in the 
defense of the little kingdom while the interned Ger- 
man troops were ordered transferred to the island of 
Texel. 

Through the irony of Fate, the vessel that was sent 
as a troopship with 1,700 German soldier-prisoners 
from Rotterdam to Texel was torpedoed by a German 
submarine and thus the first blow at Holland cost sev- 
enteen hundred German lives without a casualty among 
the Dutch crew. The latter, being able to get to their 
boats, saved themselves but could not assist the pris- 
oners, who had all been kept below decks on the voyage. 

In the absence of any formal hostilities the torpe- 
doing of the Dutch ship was declared to have been an 
“unintentional attack upon a neutral” by the Berlin 
government which, however, in the same breath falsely 
declared that the Dutch skipper had maliciously dis- 
played the British colors so as to invite disaster upon 
the German prisoners. 

The new condition abroad decided Warden and, not- 
withstanding the pleadings of Mary Berwin, he made 
preparations to leave for the other side without delay. 
Everjr day, also, the tension in Washington became 
greater. The German government, plainly chagrined 
over the miscarriage of its plans within the American 
territory, became more and more insistent in its demands 


140 


THE PASSPORT 


upon the United States for an apology and repara- 
tion, because of the action against the German- Ameri- 
can societies. There was every evidence that the Kai- 
ser’s government would not be satisfied with any reply 
the United States might make and that the demand 
for an apology and reparation was a mere subterfuge. 

Hardly was there a day that some suspicious char- 
acter was not apprehended within one of the military 
reservations and the United States Secret Service found 
its duties multiplied in ferreting out apparently irre- 
sponsible persons all along the American coast. Innu- 
merable surveying parties, without any logical reason 
for making their calculations, were driven from the 
Atlantic seaboard time and again and it was all too 
plain that a great secret machine was at work with an 
insistence and persistency that was, to say the least, 
disquieting. 

In New York Harbor the Commissioner of Docks, a 
big man, intensely patriotic and of great capability, was 
requested to co-operate with the Federal authorities in 
locating and reporting on any suspicious activities 
among the great piers which the Commissioner had pro- 
vided for New York’s gigantic shipping interests, and 
this new line of inquiry and investigation resulted in 
the discovery of a large number of fresh conspiracies. 
The arrest of a dozen men disclosed the existence of a 
vast system of espionage in the harbor. Papers were 
found showing that the German foreign office had, with- 
out a doubt, a most comprehensive idea of the landing 
facilities in and about New York for troops and had 
also provided for their protection by means of a series 
of gun foundations which had, apparently, always been 
in full public view without ever having been suspected. 

On the western shore of the Hudson, for instance, 


THE PASSPORT 


141 


new pier-ends on the structures used for a long time 
by German transatlantic lines, were found to be of 
solid concrete down to rock bottom and capable of 
bearing the heaviest of guns. These guns, trained on 
New York, could effectually wipe out the famous New 
York sky-line without a shot being fired in return. 

No one had given these concrete pier-ends a thought. 
Thousands upon thousands of Americans, waving fare- 
wells and bon voyage to their friends, had stood on 
these great foundations. American army officers and 
American naval officers had stood on them without an 
inkling of the truth and the seemingly splendid pier 
structures on the New Jersey side of the river had 
been the subject of much praise for the alert and en- 
terprising German steamship lines. 

It was not until the Commissioner of Docks, acting 
as a Federal officer for the time being, investigated 
these mammoth foundations on the other side of the 
Hudson, that the truth became apparent and what 
had once been looked upon as a civil achievement be- 
came a military menace to the Port of New York. 

An innocent-looking German inn, which for several 
years had been a popular eating place on the top of 
Staten Island’s loftiest hill, was found to be resting on 
a foundation of stone that could support the heaviest 
of howitzers. 

Two great wireless plants, for several years believed 
to have been the outcome of German commercial pro- 
gressiveness, were found to have been established on 
American soil with a well-defined idea that they would, 
later, prove a valuable asset to Germany in the war of 
conquest she was even then planning. Both plants were 
taken over by the American government “to enforce 
neutrality” — so the public was told — a reason that was 


142 


THE PASSPORT 


too transparent, in view of the general knowledge of 
German espionage in the United States, to deceive those 
who followed the quiet activities of the ^Washington 
officials. 

The interchange of “conversations” between Wash- 
ington and Berlin became more and more frequent and 
pressing — the latter tendency being entirely on the side 
of Berlin — the friendly and conciliatory tone of the 
American notes eliciting no response in kind from the 
German Foreign Office. 

When Richard Warden left Washington on the af- 
ternoon of Wednesday, with the intention of taking the 
Autania from New York on the Saturday following, it 
was an open question as to whether he would find the 
American passport, that he carried, of any value if he 
should fall into German hands. 

That was the official view. 

Americans throughout the country, unable to read 
between the lines of the involved diplomatic corre- 
spondence and ignorant of the discovery of the deep- 
rooted conspiracies made by the government, poo-booed 
the idea of a break and felt secure in the belief that the 
President would be able to adjust matters. 


CHAPTER XI 


The morning after his departure from Washington 
Warden found himself in the Berkshire homestead, hav- 
ing taken the night train from the city in order to pay 
his father and aunt a hurried farewell visit before his 
sailing for the other side of the Atlantic. Confident of 
his ability to carry his plans through to a successful 
issue, he did not minimize the dangers that undoubt- 
edly would beset his travels. He desired, therefore, to 
prepare everything so that, in the event of disaster 
overtaking him, the product of his brain should not be 
lost to the world. A thorough understanding with his 
father was one of the necessities in connection with 
this arrangement. He had given himself but a meagre 
four hours for this interview inasmuch as the prepa- 
rations for the trip would require every moment of 
the thirty-six hours prior to the steaming of the 
Autania. 

His father and he were closeted in the latter’s labo- 
ratory for several hours immediately following break- 
fast that morning, for which meal Richard had arrived 
in good season. The young man’s plans evidently 
gripped the elder Warden intensely for there was an 
admiring look in his eyes as he went over the papers 
and instructions with his son and it was with unmis- 
takable pride that he grasped young Richard’s hands 
when the interview was over. The sheet containing 
instructions was apparently a most important docu- 
ment for several times Richard pointed out to the elder 


144 


THE PASSPORT 


Warden that a copy of it should be placed in a safe 
place, outside the house, in case the original should be 
destroyed by fire or other accident. 

“My life depends upon those instructions, father,” 
said the young man earnestly. 

“Yes, I quite understand that it does, my boy,” was 
the father’s equally earnest reply. “I am proud of 
you, Richard,” he added, straightening up. “Mighty 
proud of you. You have, so far, surpassed my fondest 
hopes. Heaven grant that you may be successful in 
your mission. If your good mother could only see you 
now. How proud she would be of you !” 

“Mother does see me, father,” quickly responded the 
young man. “She looks down upon me from Heaven, 
that angel of a mother. I have worked with her aid 
always; she has been very close to me, indeed, while I 
have thought and thought over the problems that I 
was trying to solve. I am sure that it was mother’s 
help that brought me to success and I am just as posi- 
tive as I can be that she will watch over me wherever I 
may go. She has been and always will be my inspi- 
ration.” 

Aunt Elizabeth, although not understanding in the 
least the object or the sense in her nephew undertaking 
a journey to war-ridden Europe, appreciated enough 
of the danger that such a trip provided to make her 
deeply regretful that a Warden should so deliberately 
put his life in jeopardy. She shed a great many bitter 
tears, therefore, when it came time for him to leave the 
parental roof and declared that she had never, in all 
her life, had such a succession of shocks as since the 
day that Richard left college. She begged her nephew 
— if he could not reconsider his determination to risk 
his skin among the blood-thirsty Europeans — to cut 


THE PASSPORT 


145 


his European visit short and return to the Berkshires 
and a peaceful, quiet existence among the potatoes and 
the mangy chickens. 

Mary Berwin and her mother had returned to New 
York and young Warden had arranged to dine with 
them on the Thursday evening that he returned from 
the visit to his father. When he arrived in the city, 
however, the young man found a caller awaiting him 
at the little hotel where he had put up before and 
where he still held an equity in the shape of a case of 
chemical apparatus, safely hidden away in a dark re- 
cess of the coat-checking room. 

The incident of the secret service raid and the re- 
moval of his valise and camera box had long since been 
explained to the hotel manager by Chief Rankin, so 
that he was as welcome as the flowers in May when he 
once more stepped into the hostelry late that Thurs- 
day afternoon. 

His caller was David Lindsey, one of his college 
class, who had come as the bearer of an imperative or- 
der for him to join some of his classmen in a little bon 
voyage dinner that had been hurriedly arranged when it 
was learned that he was going abroad. Now, it is an 
unwritten but nevertheless one of the most binding of 
obligations that one’s alma mater has the first claim 
on one’s time and attention and he had, therefore, to 
relinquish any intention of dining with Mary and her 
mother that evening. Mary, being a sensible girl, 
readily understood the situation and said that she 
would be satisfied with a telephone call, after the 
alumni supper, a feminine precaution often taken to 
insure masculine abstemiousness and restraint at fes- 
tive occasions. In Warden’s case this was not, how- 
ever, the basis for the request. While in every way a 


146 


THE PASSPORT 


spirited and wholesome type of American youth, he had 
always observed the strictest temperance and it could 
hardly be thought likely that, on the eve of so momen- 
tous an undertaking as he had mapped out for himself, 
he would permit his brain to be clouded even by an 
alumni banquet. 

In a private dining room on an upper floor of one of 
the well-known restaurants of the city some thirty of 
his class awaited his arrival with young Lindsey. 
When he arrived he was made the subject of an ova- 
tion such as only college men can give vent to. It con- 
sisted largely of the rattling of small tin cans half- 
filled with pebbles, the blowing of horns and a large 
amount of shouting. 

“Three cheers for the traveller whom war and the 
German pirates can’t scare off!” was the opening cry 
after he had shaken hands with half of the gathered 
friends. They were given with an enthusiasm that 
threatened to do damage to the building through sim- 
ple vibration. “Now three cheers for the grand old 
college that produced such a valiant traveller!” was 
the next suggestion and again the walls were shaken 
while the thirty odd college men augmented their appe- 
tites through vibratory' massage. 

There was the usual hub-bub of conversation during 
the earlier stages of the meal with the waiters quietly 
replacing the dishes and table silver as course after 
course was negotiated by the assembled guests. There 
were any number of inquiries as to the reason for the 
journey that Warden had undertaken, all of which 
the latter parried by saying that he had just set his 
mind on seeing how things looked in the war zone for 
himself instead of getting his information from the 
newspapers. There was, also, much clinking of glasses 


THE PASSPORT 


147 


and, in some quarters, an exuberance of hilarity not 
entirely due to the mere fact of Warden’s going. But 
he himself kept strict eye on his glass and the sum total 
of his imbibition at the end of the meal were not over 
half a dozen sips. With the coffee on the table there 
came the inevitable demand for a speech. He tried hard 
to avoid it, saying that he had never been able to face 
an assemblage and retain his power of speech at the 
same time. He was helped to his feet, kept to his feet 
and told to say something — anything. 

“I cannot make a speech, boys,” he pleaded. “I never 
did such a thing in my life.” 

“Make a try at it, Dick. Talk about the cruelty of 
the war or something. That’s your pet subject,” cried 
one irrelevant soul. “I feel cruel myself just now af- 
ter annihilating this dinner.” 

“Don’t praise the Kaiser, Dickie! Be neutral!” 
came from the other end of the room. 

“But I tell you I cannot talk in public,” hie expos- 
tulated. Then, more seriously, “Besides, I do not think 
the war should be a subject of levity. We here, in a 
joyous, care-free mood, cannot appreciate what agon- 
ies are being suffered on those battle-fields. No, let us 
keep the war out of our talks this evening.” 

“Why should we?” shouted a thoughtless youth. 
“We are not having a war — we know enough to keep 
out of that sort of thing!” 

“Don’t be so sure of that,” was Warden’s quick re- 
joinder. His antipathy against talking seemed to be 
disappearing. “Don’t be too sure of that, Gardner. 
It is not beyond all possibility that, before the week is 
over, our own country will face a condition such as 
Belgium did, such as Plolland may be facing any mo- 
ment. If we, who stand here to-night, far away from 


148 


THE PASSPORT 


the bloody fields of Belgium and France, fully trusting 
in our immunity from the war menace, knew the inside 
facts we might possibly be looking on the future with 
somewhat heavier hearts.” His words and his manner 
caused a hush among the boisterous college men. Only 
one or two maintained a careless demeanor and kept up 
their good-natured sky-larking. “Before I am very 
far across the Atlantic,” continued the young speaker, 
“you here in New York, or along the New England 
coast, or the New Jersey coast, may hear the rumbling 
of the artillery, the assembling of the troops and the 
first warnings of an invasion, even as Liege, Louvain 
and the other border cities of Belgium did — without 
any previous hint of coming disaster. We do not know 
all that our President knows and we do not know how 
close we are to having a cruel and merciless war thrust 
upon us. We are laughing at war now. We think it 
impossible that the thing could happen. Remember 
that Europe laughed at war also and nobody believed 
that Germany would even think of antagonizing the 
whole world up to the very day that war was actually 
declared. Remember that we are wholly unprepared. 
If France, with a standing army of many hundreds of 
thousand trained soldiers, was caught unawares, and at 
a decided disadvantage, how much more serious is our 
position, with a handful of regulars and absolutely none 
of the great modern defenses that the more or less 
military nations of Europe had at their command. The 
rumblings that we are to-day carelessly smiling at may, 
to-morrow morning, develop into a terrific storm. If 
that storm comes, without giving us time to prepare for 
it, we are facing a struggle in every way as terrible 
and bloody as the one that has been staggering Europe 
these eight months. Personally, I believe Germany is 


THE PASSPORT 


149 


trying to force a war on the United States and ” 

One of the diners, some little distance away from 
where Warden was standing behind his chair, jumped 
to his feet. 

“You stop that ! Do you hear me? You stop that !” 
he shouted. “Any man who says that about Germany 

is a li ” Several of the other young men tried to 

stop the interruptor. The latter tried hard to keep 
up his tirade. 

“Why, Charlie Hartung !” There was deep reproach 
in Warden’s voice as he turned to the one who had 
caused the interruption. “We are all Americans, are 
we not? All born here and the fathers of most of us 
were born here, too. You have no reason for acting 
that way.” 

“I’m born here alright enough,” loudly replied Har- 
tung. “But no man can say a thing against Germany 
or the Kaiser without taking a chance with me!” he 
added, with a threatening gesture. “Say,” he sneered, 
“if you’re so sure Germany is going to declare war on 
us, why don’t you stay here and fight?” 

“I cannot tell you why I am leaving the country just 
at this time but it may be — and I firmly believe it will 
be — that when I return, God willing, you who are here 
to-night will agree that I was justified in going. All 
of you except, perhaps, Hartung,” and Warden could 
not repress a smile as he spoke the last words. 

“Dickie’s going to save the country,” murmured one 
young chap. “Dickie’s going to be like the little boy 
who placed his thumb over the break in the dyke and 
saved Holland !” Which pleasantry brought some 
good-natured laughter and broke the unpleasant ten- 
sion caused by Hartung’s outburst. 

“Do you think you will be able to induce the soldiers 


150 


THE PASSPORT 


to quit fighting, Dick?” laughingly asked one of the 
diners, as he looked up at Warden from across the 
table. 

“If it were possible to get at the soldiers — all of 
them — and put it to a vote, the fighting would be over 
to-morrow. The German soldiers are fighting because 
they are driven to it. A German follows orders blindly. 
It is taught him as soon as he learns to understand 
anything. I have heard it said that the German baby 
never cries needlessly after his first year. At the end 
of that time he is a thoroughly disciplined baby. The 
French and Belgium soldiers are fighting to defend 
their countries. The British soldiers are fighting for 
future salvation for it would be their turn to repel in- 
vaders if the Germans could overwhelm the Belgians 
and the French. But neither the German soldiers, the 
Belgian, French nor the British soldiers hold any ill- 
feeling against each other. We have proof of that in 
the reports from the front, telling us of concerts and 
entertainments in which the rank and file of the oppos- 
ing forces join after their day’s work is over. The 
day’s work ! That is how those misguided soldiers look 
upon their military duty. Much like the pig-stickers 
in the slaughtering houses. If, instead of having war 
declared by the heads of the nations, or by the so-called 
representatives of the people at large, the people at 
large themselves were called upon to vote for or against 
it, there would not be any war. And, even if there 
should be a majority in favor of war, there would 
still be another way to prevent hostilities by simply 
providing that this majority should be immediately en- 
listed while the minority should be exempt. With that 
provision, I am sure there never would be a war major- 
ity ! The only ones in Europe to-day who really desire 


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151 


to continue the struggle are the heads of Kaiser Wil- 
helm’s government. If someone could bring about the 
impossibility of further fighting between the soldiers 
of the opposing forces, the soldiers themselves would 
hail that state of affairs with delight. That may yet 
be brought about. Every day makes something possible 
that seemed impossible the day before.” 

“You’ll see it through, Dick! Stick to your hobby !” 
came from two of his more intimate friends, as he 
stopped a moment in his discourse. 

“Yes, fellows, I have a hobby, just as all of us have 
a hobby of some kind or other,” spoke Warden again, 
now thoroughly at ease in his speechmaking. “Mine is 
the problem of human aggression towards its kind as 
weighed against the true brotherhood of man. We all 
suspect our fellows of some ulterior purpose. Look at 
Charlie Hartung! Ready to fight me, I am sure, be- 
cause I hold one opinion and he another. Have you 
ever stopped to consider how many would be out of 
their present positions if men could trust each other? 
What a splendid thing it w r ould be if there was no such 
thing as dishonesty or aggression in the world. We 
would not need any policemen, or detectives, or inspec- 
tors to watch over street-car and train conductors, 
cashiers to see that you paid the proper amount for 
your meals in restaurants or a thousand and one others 
in positions intended solely for the subjugation of the 
criminal instincts of some of us. These waiters around 
us to-night,” sweeping his arm about the room to in- 
dicate the servitors in white aprons ranged along the 
walls, “these waiters are probably all honest and con- 
scientious men. Take my friend here, for example.” 
Warden placed his arm over the shoulder of the near- 
est waiter, a heavy- jawed individual who did not seem 


152 


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to relish in the least the distinction of being specifi- 
cally pointed to as a living proof of the speaker’s 
words. “I am sure that my friend here is an honest 
man. Now, he cannot, because of the natural human 
aggression instilled in the heart of the proprietor of 
this place, get a single dish out of the kitchen without 
it being checked off by the chef, for fear that he may 
be favoring a particular diner. Again, for fear the 
chef may be in collusion with him, another checker out- 
side the kitchen passes on the first check. Once more, 
for fear the checker may be in collusion with the chef 
and the waiter, a cashier must check off the dish and 
because the cashier may also, possibly, be in the con- 
spiracy, he or she is heavily bonded.” The heavy- 
jawed waiter was wriggling from Warden’s friendly 
arm and the audible remark of another waiter who 
said “Look at Henry” to a fellow servant, did not 
make Henry look any better pleased over the incident. 

“That is only one result of human aggression. It 
is one of the petty results,” continued Warden. “The 
bigger results are to be seen on the firing lines in Eu- 
rope. It should be stopped and it is going to be 
stopped, I am sure. I hope to see an American take 
the first step in this direction, boys. You may see it 
happen before I return to you. If I am allowed to re- 
turn safely to my own glorious country I hope to have 
you all as my guests at the next alumni dinner !” 

There was much noise as all of his friends crowded 
about him, following his maiden effort as an after-din- 
ner speaker. Hartung was still scowling and when 
Warden went to him with extended hand the former 
took the proffered greeting in bad grace. 

“Here’s to Richard the Third, American Dictator 
and Liberator!” came the toast from somewhere down 


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158 


the table as one of the diners climbed on a chair and 
raised his glass. 

There was no hint of sarcasm in the tone in which 
the toast was suggested. Something in Warden’s earn- 
estness had impressed this light-hearted, careless group 
of young Americans and, while they did not actually 
mean what was represented in the title given their fel- 
low alumnus, the title was not given jestingly. 

In the noise of the clinking glasses and the hum of 
conversation that followed, no one noticed the hurried, 
whispered interview between two of the waiters, one of 
them the heavy- jawed Henry. The two men talked 
quickly, almost with feverish haste, keeping their eyes 
on Warden as they spoke. Then Henry divested him- 
self of his apron, brushed his clothes with his hands, 
smoothed his hair and slipped silently out of the room. 
The other, again assuming the servile attitude of the 
waiter, threw a glance full of hatred at Warden, ac- 
companied by an involuntary clenching of his fists. 
Then he proceeded to take the glasses, the cups and 
the saucers from the table, as if nothing had happened, 
while Warden and the other college youths were slowly 
preparing to depart. 

Before proceeding to his hotel, Warden stopped at 
the telephone switchboard on the ground floor of the 
restaurant building to speak to Mary Berwin. As he 
neared the switchboard, Henry, the waiter, st^od in 
the shadow of the hallway. When he entered a booth 
the waiter spoke to the man at the board and was 
allowed to take his place while the operator left the 
hallway. In this way he was able to overhear the con- 
versation of young Warden and his sweetheart, which 
had evidently been his purpose. 

The newsies were crying out their “extras” as War- 


154 


THE PASSPORT 


den emerged from the building, following a chat with 
Mary over the telephone. The young woman had told 
him that she had heard, while he was dining with his 
classmates, that matters had assumed a much more 
threatening aspect in Washington, a report that he 
found to be fully confirmed in the late editions that 
he bought. 

He had arranged to meet Mary and her mother 
the next afternoon and dine with them later, remaining 
with them for the evening preceding his departure for 
England. He was surprised to find his sweetheart in 
not quite so hopeless a frame of mind as he had feared, 
owing to their prospective parting, a knowledge that 
involuntarily piqued the young man. It was the genus 
masculine asserting itself. No man, however lofty his 
intellectuality and his aspirations, is entirely free from 
a feeling of chagrin at an evidence of feminine indif- 
ference, no matter how slight, and he could not refrain 
from noting Mary’s apparent absence of worry over 
his forthcoming journey. It was merely a passing 
thought, however, for young Warden had too many 
serious problems in his head to make it possible for 
him to give time to the consideration of a woman’s 
whim. 

He read his evening papers as Ke rode downtown in 
the underground train. In the car immediately behind 
his, standing on the platform, his unpleasant face 
barely showing through the glass front of the vestibule, 
was Henry, the heavy-jawed waiter. The fellow never 
allowed his eyes to stray from the young man in the 
car ahead and he was on the station platform as quickly 
as Warden Was, when the latter left the train at the 
stop nearest to his hotel. In the shadow of the night 
and the buildings the man kept apace with him until 


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155 


he saw young Warden enter the hotel. 

“Good!” growled the waiter, as he noted the place. 
“It will be an interesting journey for that damned 
Yankee!” Then he hurried away. Half an hour later 
he met the waiter with whom he had the whispered con- 
ference in the private dining room, in a dingy little 
coffee house on the East Side. 

After a brief parley the two men left the place and 
made their way to an Italian cobbler’s, in a row of 
dreary tenements, where they went into a back room, 
carefully closing the door behind them and where they 
remained well into the night. 


CHAPTER XII 


Friday came into being bathed in sunlight and with 
every indication of being an auspiciously beautiful day. 
In the early forenoon Warden busied himself making 
the final arrangements for his passage on the Autania 
and for his passport, which had to be vised by the 
British Consul. 

Having attended to these formalities, he took a train 
for a suburban station in New Jersey, where, hidden 
in the woods in an isolated section, was a little country 
cemetery. It was there that what remained earthly of 
a mother had been laid at rest a few short years before, 
and it seemed fitting to Richard to visit the hallowed 
spot on the eve of his departure and receive the silent, 
unspoken blessing the memory of a loving and self- 
sacrificing mother must invariably convey. He unbur- 
dened his innermost soul while he stood there, in that 
little plot, with that pitiful little grey stone marking 
all that had been dear to him and which had passed 
beyond. He spoke to her as if she had been standing 
there before him and asked her blessing on his mission — 
a mission that he knew his mother would have desired 
him to undertake. He thought of her as she appeared 
to him when he was a child, a fairy apparition, gentle 
and patient, invariably brushing away the threatening 
clouds on the little family horizon and turning into a 
calm the impending storm. Then, as she appeared to 
him later, he grown into manhood and able to com- 


THE PASSPORT 


157 


prehend the sacrifices that she was making ; her unalter- 
able sympathy for the oppressed; her infinite sense of 
justice. Such had been his mother, and Richard knew 
that it was her spirit that moved him now, directed 
his every thought for justice and fair play, guided his 
every action looking to the alleviation of human 
suffering. 

After his quiet communion with the past he left a 
wreath of immortelles on the little grey stone and 
then silently wended his way from the quiet and peace 
of the Dead to the noise and turmoil of the living. 

Had he for a moment thought that Mary Berwin 
was lacking in the most intense concern over his for- 
eign trip, that feeling would have been instantly dissi- 
pated when he saw her that afternoon. The beautiful 
girl showed the agitation that she felt and innumer- 
able little requisites essential to the traveller’s comfort, 
which she had gathered in a day’s visit to the shops, 
were awaiting his coming so that he might take them 
with him and include them in his luggage. It did seem 
somewhat strange to the young man that his sweetheart 
acquiesced so readily to his suggestion that she should 
not come to the steamship pier in the morning to bid 
him bon voyage. He had desired to spare the girl he 
loved every possible heart-pang and thought a parting 
the night before, in her own home, would not cause 
either of them so poignant a grief as would the waving 
of farewells at the wharf. He had been almost certain 
that his suggestion would meet with strenuous oppo- 
sition and he was not at all prepared for the appar- 
ently satisfied manner with which Mary agreed to his 
plan. He dismissed the thought by saying that she 
was probably hiding her deep feelings over their separa- 
tion, a feeling that he, too, was suffering under, but 


158 


THE PASSPORT 


which, in his case, was tempered by the tremendous 
responsibilities he had taken upon himself and which 
kept his brain awhirl with a multitude of plans, some 
of them in a decidedly embryonic state. 

There was no question that he and Mary were very 
much in love with each other. Fostered by misfortune 
and sorrow on the one side, the affection between them 
was much deeper than usual between young people of 
their ages. Mary’s love was reflected in her every 
glance, her every movement. There was nothing of 
the frivolous about Richard Warden. He was a young 
man to attract admiration from a girl as sensible and 
womanly as Mary was, and he had attracted her ad- 
miration to the full. She, in turn, had that easy 
grace and tact to draw to her the best in young 
manhood, without the inane and pointless chatter so 
common to the modern well-groomed youth whose am- 
bitions, so far as feminine association goes, never rises 
above the tailor and the dancing master. 

Mary was now thoroughly conversant with her 
fiance’s plans. With her aptitude of comprehending 
things, she thoroughly understood the dangers and 
risks that the man she loved was laying himself bare 
to. But she also understood his reasons for believing 
that he would, just as likely as not, go through his mis- 
sion unscathed, for they were entirely logical reasons 
and Mary was, above all else, able to see the logic of 
things. 

The dinner, prepared under the practical supervision 
of Mrs. Berwin, who prided herself, and justly so, 
upon being a most excellent cook, was a delightful one, 
although the recent stirring events in the lives of the 
Berwins, mother and daughter, barred any undue exu- 
berance of high spirits. The conversation, dealing 


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159 


largely with the questionable ease with which he would 
be able to pursue his travels, did not lag and the three 
sat over their coffee for a long time after the meal was 
over and the table had been cleared. 

Finally, her mother having excused herself on the 
plea that she was much fatigued and needed rest, Mary 
and Richard were left alone and the latter settled him- 
self for a final talk with his sweetheart before entering 
upon the new phase in his career, a phase that might, 
conceivably, end in disaster for himself and for the 
girl’s hopes for the future, and which might, again, 
mean a new era of happiness not only for both of them 
but for the whole world — a portentous thought indeed. 

“I know that you will succeed, my boy,” said Mary, 
gently, as she held his head between her hands. Then, 
stroking his waving hair, “You will not fail, for justice 
and honor will be on your side and you will be able to 
convince all of your noble intentions. There are few 
men in the world like you, Dick, and I am so proud of 
you.” 

“And you,” he answered, with a great gentleness in 
his voice. “What will you do when I return? If I 
should succeed, you would let me watch over you then, 
forever? It will be my aim to make you happy, oh, so 
happy, dear heart. You have been sorely tried, but 
it will all come out right, I am sure it will.” He knew 
that Mary was thinking of her father as she averted 
her eyes from his. “That, also, will turn out without 
further unhappiness, dear. You will be able to look 
upon a happy future and to know that all the mistakes 
that were made, the mistake that your father made, 
will be forgiven and forgotten in the happier days that 
are to come. Think of me and pray for me while I am 
away from you. Your prayers will be my safety, your 


160 THE PASSPORT 

longing will be the magnet that will draw me irresistibly 
back to you.” 

In this wise did these two young people effect their 
parting, each pledging the other a love and constancy 
that neither the ocean’s breadth or war’s horrors would 
cause to wane. Then he departed, after a long and 
tender embrace and, as he thought, for a long time, 
with the chances of his ever returning very much in 
the balance. This was in the day’s work, however, a 
day’s work that should, he believed, count in the final 
Reckoning. 

Earlier in the evening a neatly dressed, rather heavy- 
set man had entered the hotel where Warden had his 
lodgings. The one thing noticeable about the man 
was his heavy, almost bulldog-like jaws. At the hotel 
desk he presented a card bearing the engraved name 
of Richard Warden, on the back of which was written 
a brief order requesting that the bearer be allowed to 
go to Mr. Warden’s room for some papers which had 
been forgotten and which Mr. Warden apparently 
needed at once. 

Once in the apartment, the stranger began a hurried 
but thorough examination of the young man’s effects. 
Luckily for Richard, he had left his valise containing 
all his important papers, passage ticket, passport and 
other documents, with the coat boy in the hotel lobby. 
The hotel clerk, not knowing this, did not have the 
opportunity of suggesting that the desired papers, 
mentioned on the card, might possibly be in the valise. 

In the room there were the stateroom trunk, a box 
that was nailed closed and which did not seem to 
interest the searcher, some clothes laid out ready for 
packing and some unimportant odds and ends in the 


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161 


way of pipes, books, clothes’ hangers and the black 
camera box to which the visitor paid no attention. 

From his pocket the fellow drew a small package, 
the size of a one-pound candy box, which he opened 
and proceeded to set a pin or hand such as are set on 
the back of some alarm-clocks. Then, repacking the 
parcel and tapping at it lightly with a pocket knife, 
he raised the personal effects that had been already 
packed in the bottom of the small trunk, placed the 
package between the lower layers of clothes, and care- 
fully readjusted the things that he had disturbed. 

For a little time thereafter he looked through the 
room, but apparently found nothing to his liking ex- 
cept a box of cigars, which he placed in the outer 
pocket of his coat. 

While the visit had quite evidently not been made 
from a burglarious motive originally, the box of cigars, 
presented to Richard by David Lindsey the night be- 
fore, had proven too great a temptation to the heavy- 
jawed intruder and its confiscation went hand in hand 
with the fellow’s melodramatic exclamation of “ Fur 
das V aterland!” which he gave vent to, a big fist raised 
high above his head, as he started for the door. 

When Warden arrived at his hotel he was puzzled 
to learn of the visit of the stranger with the card pur- 
porting to have been sent by him. He felt that he 
was again the subject of a surveillance, although, this 
time, he could eliminate the secret service people. Ber- 
win and Schmidt, of course, were in custody, so he was 
at a loss to understand from what quarter to expect 
this new interference with his activities. For an instant 
Charlie Hartung’s name suggested itself to him, but 
he threw off that idea as an insult to the young chap 


162 


THE PASSPORT 


with whom he had spent so many enjoyable days at the 
university. Besides, the description given of the mys- 
terious visitor by the hotel clerk did not tally in the 
least with the general appearance of the young Ger- 
man-American who had interrupted his speech at the 
farewell dinner given him by his college mates. 

In his room he failed to find anything missing. He 
was relieved to learn that his satchels had not been 
meddled with and he found them intact when they 
were brought upstairs to him. The only thing that 
he missed was the box of cigars, and he finally gave 
up the attempt to identify the intruder or his possible 
mission. 

He packed the rest of his belongings in the steamer 
trunk, arranged for his early departure from the hotel 
in the morning, and then, after looking over some 
papers and smoking a last pipe, turned off the lights 
and retired. 

As the taximeter cab that took him and his luggage 
to the wharf the next morning rounded the corner of 
the street on its way to the waterfront, another cab 
went hastily in pursuit. In it sat two men, one of 
them Henry, the heavy-jawed waiter of the Thursday 
night banquet. 

While the baggage of all passengers was being looked 
over on the pier, before the passengers were allowed 
to take their belongings on board, the two men stood 
away from the group of baggage examiners and 
watched keenly as young Warden’s trunk was looked 
into. Henry gave a sigh of relief when the trunk was 
again closed and locked and carried over the gangplank. 

Looking, involuntarily, for a fair, sweet face with 
two expressive eyes, speaking a mute farewell and God- 
speed across the chasm between wharf and steamer, 


THE PASSPORT 


163 


Richard half regretted his arrangement to have no 
one see him off at the pier. Pie envied those who were 
able to wave at friends and relatives from the deck 
rail. Then, seeing the tears and hearing the sobs of 
those who were being left behind, he felt that he had 
spared Mary one additional pang of sorrow that such 
a parting would have been sure to give her, and it 
eased the homesickness that crept over him, notwith- 
standing himself. 

Soon the last bell rang for “All Ashore” and the 
big siren blew as a warning that the gangplank was 
to be withdrawn and the great propellers were to begin 
churning a whirlpool preparatory to the backing of 
the giant vessel into the river. With several puffing, 
wheezing little tugs to aid her in straightening out in 
the stream, the Autania pointed her nose towards the 
open sea, and wharves, warehouses, freight sheds and 
finally Battery Park were left astern and New York 
became a hazy memory. 

At the Narrows a United States destroyer signalled 
a “Go ahead; pleasant voyage,” and Warden, stand- 
ing at the rail with some of the other passengers, raised 
his hat as he had never raised it to anything American 
before. There was pride, enthusiasm and love in the 
gesture and an overwhelming satisfaction was his that 
his country had its warships on duty, — on watch. He 
felt that the watch would soon be needed. 

He was making his way to his stateroom, to make 
ready for luncheon, when a steward handed him a note. 
It was written on ship’s stationery, which caused him 
added curiosity, for he could not imagine that he knew 
any of the passengers- on the steamer. He tore open 
the cover, the address on which had seemed slightly 
familiar to him, and the contents did not take long 


164 


THE PASSPORT 


to explain the mystery. The note was in a plain, bold 
feminine hand. 

Don't be cross , dear , but mother and I de- 
cided that we would make the journey across 
the Atlantic with you. Not wishing to give 
you a sudden shock at seeing us on board or 
to have any of the passengers get an idea that 
anything unusual happened , I thought I 
would prepare you for the surprise! Come to 
us in D Deck. I am so happy to be here 
with you , my beloved. 

Your Mary. 

The surprise that he felt was clearly reflected on 
his face, but he managed to collect himself when he 
saw the suave stateroom steward watching him as if 
there might be an answer to the note. If there is one 
thing a stateroom steward enjoys above everything 
else it is the fostering of romances of the deep. For 
in them lie hidden, as a general rule, innumerable mes- 
sages and a consequent increased monetary remunera- 
tion at the end of the trip. 

It did not take the young man long to brush up 
and hasten to the deck above, where, in a comfortable 
room amidships, he was soon reunited with Mary and 
her mother, and fifteen minutes later the three had 
been assigned to a table in the dining saloon. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A ground swell gave the big steamship an uncom- 
fortable roll during the afternoon, which was not a 
source of any special comfort to the more unseasoned 
of the voyagers. It had caused a general evacuation 
of the dining room and a general movement in the 
direction of staterooms and deck chairs. Both Mary 
and her mother pleaded fatigue as an excuse for their 
retirement to the seclusion of their cabin and Warden 
embraced the opportunity to unpack his baggage, in 
which operation a solicitous room steward offered to 
assist him. 

Once in his own room, he arranged the contents of 
his valise about his cabin and then the steward dragged 
the little flat trunk from underneath the bunk. First 
his clothes were passed to the steward for hanging in 
the wardrobe closet. 

He had taken out all but the bottommost layer of 
things when, in reaching down, his hand struck a 
parcel at the very bottom of the trunk. 

He drew it out and looked at it, puzzled, for a 
moment. 

At first he thought it was one of the little packages 
prepared for him by Mary, but he could not account 
for it being at the bottom of the trunk. In fact, he 
had not placed any packages in the trunk at all, he 
remembered. 

Untying the string that held the wrapper, he un- 
folded this also and found a little box, of plain, thin 


166 


THE PASSPORT 


wood, such as are used to pack school chalks in. The 
little box was nailed tight, with small brads, and when, 
using his pocket knife for the task, he pried open the 
top of the box, the inside of it disclosed a bottle, or 
rather a glass jar, at the top of which was fitted what 
appeared to be a sort of alarm clock arrangement, 
with a slight tick and a small hand that pointed to the 
numeral five. 

The steward’s attention had been attracted to his 
efforts to open the box and when the glass jar, with 
its strange contrivance, was disclosed his eyes shifted 
from the glass affair to Warden’s face just as War- 
den’s eyes turned from the thing he held in his hand 
to the face of the steward. 

Both men had the same thought and the steward 
made an involuntary movement as if to withdraw from 
the room in precipitate haste. 

Warden, entirely calm and collected, stopped him 
with a motion of his hand. He thought quickly but 
definitely and looked at his watch. 

It was then just past four o’clock. 

He again looked at the hand on the alarm clock 
contrivance and saw that he had noted correctly. 

The hand stood on the numeral five. 

He held the piece of wrapping paper loosely over 
the jar, then motioned to the quite apparently fright- 
ened steward. 

“Come with me to the bridge,” he said quietly, but 
in a tone of absolute authority. “There is no danger — 
yet,” he added as he noted the apathy of the man to 
obey. “We must show this to the captain at once.” 

Quickly and without using any of the main stair- 
ways, they passed along the corridor to the forward 
part of the vessel, ascending an inner stairway to the 


THE PASSPORT 


167 


deck above, then another and still another, without 
meeting with any passengers. 

Arriving on the upper promenade deck, they had to 
go outside and up a narrow companionway used ex- 
clusively by the navigating staff. 

On the bridge they found the captain. 

Very briefly yet very explicitly Warden explained 
what he had found and what he feared. The captain 
understood and said the best thing would be to throw 
the jar far overboard at once. Warden, however, de- 
sired to know for certain that the clockwork he had 
found was, indeed, what they thought it was, and 
suggested that it be placed in a sealed tin container, 
lashed to a board and the board lowered over the stern 
rail and dragged along at a goodly distance from the 
ship. In this way they would be able to watch the 
effect of the contents of the jar in safety. 

Accordingly, one of the sealed tins always at hand 
in a pilot house was produced, and within five minutes 
after it had been sealed up the Captain, Warden and 
another officer were hurrying aft with their little “raft.” 
The steward had been ordered to say nothing of the 
discovery in young Warden’s cabin trunk. The man 
could not resist following the others — at a distance 
and along the opposite side of the deck — and his curi- 
osity naturally attracted attention from other stew- 
ards and sailors, with the result that, somehow, it 
began to be whispered around the big vessel that some- 
thing of more than usual interest was happening on 
board. 

The mere fact that the commander of the Autania 
stood silently and quietly at the stern rail, with one 
of his officers and Warden, that a long rope was 
stretched from the taffrail far out beyond the wake 


168 


THE PASSPORT 


of the propellers and that, at the sea-end of the line, 
some object bobbed up and down and flopped around 
with the tremendous speed at which it was being 
dragged through the water, was enough to cause a 
group of saloon travellers to crowd the rail on the 
upper deck amidships and a number of second-class 
voyagers, on the same deck with the captain and his 
companions, to watch them at a respectful distance. 

At a twenty-seven-knot clip the fleet Autania rushed 
on to the eastward and the watchers at her stern kept 
their eyes riveted on the indistinct object at the end 
of the line, far out into the sea. 

Every few moments one or the other of the three 
at the taffrail would consult his watch, and finally, 
when the time showed a few minutes lacking of five 
o’clock, all three looked at one another, without saying 
a word. 

Suddenly those who had kept their eyes on the far 
end of the line saw a volume of spray rise up from the 
sea. It was as if a shell from a heavy gun had fallen 
into the water. It was followed by a report, suffi- 
ciently loud to prove to Warden and the two ship’s 
officers that the glass jar had exploded. 

Judging from the commotion the detonation made at 
the distance from the steamer that it was at the time, 
Warden and his two companions at the rail knew that 
the glass jar would have caused serious disaster had it 
exploded in the cabin trunk in Warden’s stateroom. 

Instinctively the captain and Warden shook hands 
as the explosion was heard and the eyes of both were, 
for an instant, turned gratefully to Heaven. They 
returned slowly to the forward section of the ship, 
Warden explaining to the captain, as they walked along 
the deck, the visit of the stranger to his room the 


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169 


evening before. He did not attempt to enlighten the 
captain on the subject of his own mission abroad and 
the possible motive for the attempt upon his life and 
the damage to if not the total destruction of the 
Autania. He contented himself by saying that he prob- 
ably had some hidden enemy who had taken this das- 
tardly means to put him out of the way. 

When he saw Mary that evening, just before the 
dinner hour, she told him that she had heard from the 
stewardess that some passenger had found an infernal 
machine in his trunk. To reassure his sweetheart he 
said this was quite true, but that he himself had seen 
the explosive thrown overboard. With the reports of 
attempts to blow up ocean steamships by means of 
bombs placed on board by German sympathizers, the 
incident of the Autania did not tend to quiet the nerves 
of the passengers and the discovery of the bomb re- 
mained the principal topic of conversation in the loung- 
ing and the smoking rooms. 

It was not until the third day out, when the Autania 
had passed mid-Atlantic, that Mary Berwin learned 
for whom the explosive discovered two days before had 
been intended. The girl’s fears were thoroughly re- 
vived as she learned anew of the desperate attempts 
that were being made upon the life of her affianced. 
She sought him out on deck and implored her lover to 
be continually on his guard, to watch carefully every 
stranger with whom he came in contact and to take 
nothing from anyone without being sure beyond a doubt 
that no harm could possibly be intended. 

The days on the ocean, except for the excitement 
that had occurred at the very start of the voyage, were 
happy days for them both. Mary proved a good sailor, 
unlike her mother, who was kept to her room for the 


170 


THE PASSPORT 


greater part of the trip. The sweethearts breakfasted, 
lunched and dined together, took long walks along the 
splendid, broad decks, lolled in their deck chairs and 
enjoyed the moonlight on the vast expanse of water 
as they wandered in the shadows of the evenings. 

There was a ghostly coziness about these evening 
walks, for no lights shone on deck or from the light- 
ports. 

Everything was in darkness on board except within 
the great, luxurious saloons and cabins. Windows were 
heavily curtained and the decks had to be walked with 
care, for nowhere was there a light to mark the com- 
panionways or entrances to the realms within. As an 
added precaution, the lifeboats swung lazily out upon 
the davits, ready for instant lowering should unfor- 
seen disaster overtake the great liner, a disaster pos- 
sible only through the machinations of the German 
brain and because of which no lights shone out upon 
the waters. The decks were not deserted, however, for 
at regular intervals an alert seaman stood, peering 
over the dark sea, watching for the tell-tale periscope — 
pirate-scope, one British Jackie had appropriately 
called it — ready to give the instant alarm to the navi- 
gating bridge where the commander held his post all 
through the watches of the night. 

The very peril of the voyage braced the nerves of 
all and caused an atmosphere of friendly sociability 
to pervade the ship. 

Warden was sitting in the smoking-room the next 
morning, looking over the wireless bulletins printed in 
the form of a daily newspaper aboard the ship, when 
the conversation at an adjoining table attracted his 
attention. Lounging in the soft, comfortable settees 
were five men, together representing a large part of 


THE PASSPORT 


17 1 


the individual wealth of the United States. There was 
Jordan, the New York financier; McRadden, Philadel- 
phia philanthropist and backer of scientific research; 
Barbour, the Western capitalist and one of the chief 
figures in the great packing interests ; Quabb, the Steel 
King, and Clarkson, retired capitalist and Represen- 
tative. Warden had met all five of the men and he 
was not, therefore, averse to mingling in the discus- 
sion, which had to do with passports and their recog- 
nition by foreign governments. 

Jordan held that a government, in time of war, could 
withhold recognition of any passport without the neces- 
sity of having to explain its action to the government 
of the holder of the paper, provided no indignity was 
shown the latter. 

Clarkson vehemently upheld his theory that no gov- 
ernment had the right to refuse the citizen of a neutral 
power the right of access to the country, provided the 
visitor did not violate military rules. 

The Steel King declared that no passport had ever 
been ignored except for specifically good reasons by 
any nation except one, and that, in the case of the 
latter, it had always been on religious lines and that 
it was well understood beforehand. Even this one re- 
striction had now been wiped out by the war and the 
man from the rolling mills said he was certain that 
the religious restrictions in this particular country 
would never again be felt after the present war. 

“ A passport will carry you anywhere if your country 
is not at war with the one you are visiting,” opined 
the man from Chicago. “And to-day you could not 
go ten feet without a passport,” he added. 

“I wish I had the opportunity — and the means — to 
lay a wager on that proposition of yours, Mr. Bar- 


172 


THE PASSPORT 


bour,” said Warden quietly. “I mean the last part 
of your statement.” 

“You think that you could go on your way without 
a passport, then?” inquired the packer. “Or do you 
mean that you would limit me to the ten feet I men- 
tioned. That was speaking figuratively. You would 
probably be able to go as much as thirty feet — the 
length of the landing stage at Liverpool — but after 
that you would go only in custody and not very far 
then.” 

“I would not split hairs on such a proposition,” 
insisted Warden. “I say that I would, were I able, 
wager that I could land in England, cross over to 
Erance, go through Belgium, cross the lines into Ger- 
many, travel back to France, recross the Channel to 
England and return to my own country, without a 
passport ! There is no catch in my meaning. I cannot 
make the wager, of course, but I mean exactly what I 
say and in the most liberal sense. I do not include 
Russia, Servia or the Slav countries for the reason 
that I could not make myself understood in those lands 
and, besides, subordinates in those countries would be 
liable to kill you before you could ever get the ear of 
a commanding officer.” 

There was a queer light in young Warden’s eyes. 
He enjoyed the mystification that he had aroused in 
the group of notables. He knew that his project was 
useless and unnecessary although entirely plausible, 
knowing what he knew. He had no doubt whatever 
of his ability to do just what he had said he could do 
and there was no undue bravado or boastfulness in his 
speech. 

“If I did not hesitate in sending a first-class Ameri- 
can young man to his doom,” said Barbour, after a 


THE PASSPORT 


17 $ 


pause, “I would say that I have twenty thousand dol- 
lars right here that speaks in support of my conten- 
tion and against yours , Mr. Warden. And there would 
be no necessity of you putting up a wager against that 
twenty thousand. The sum would be yours after you 
had proven to my satisfaction that you had completed 
that remarkable journey without a passport.” 

“And I have another twenty thousand to add to the 
fund!” excitedly declared McRadden, jumping to his 
feet. “And on the same conditions as Barbour’s twenty 
thousand.” 

“I’m in on that,” interjected Quabb. “That’s a great 
sporting proposition !” 

“Count me in also,” spoke up Jordan, ordinarily not 
demonstrative but showing a lively interest in the dis- 
cussion. He pulled out a checkbook, possibly to show 
his good faith. 

“Young man,” quietly joined in the elderly Clark- 
son, “that makes an even hundred thousand if you 
should think of making the journey under the con- 
ditions stipulated, for I am to be counted in for an 
equal amount with my friends.” He moved forward in 
his chair, evincing the deepest interest in the course 
the discussion was taking. “I do not agree with Bar- 
bour,” he went on, “that it would be necessarily send- 
ing you to your doom — were you to make the try. 
From an educational standpoint alone I think it would 
be worth one hundred thousand dollars to have a young 
and sturdy American show what he could do in such 
an undertaking.” 

“Of course, if Germany and the United States should 
go to war before you reach German territory or terri- 
tory occupied by the Germans,” interposed Barbour, 
hastily, “we would not expect you to stick to the pro- 


174 


THE PASSPORT 


gramme as far as Germany is concerned. In fact, that 
would be impossible.” 

“It would make no difference whatever to me, or in 
my plans,” said Warden, slowly, “whether war had 
been declared between Germany and our country or 
not.” 

He stood there without saying a word for several 
minutes. 

The five wealthy Americans sat quite still, each of 
them deep in thought, fascinated by this gambling on 
human ingenuity and grit. 

They had, all of them, gambled on horses struggling 
madly for supremacy over the course, on the rise and 
fall of prices of securities and the necessities of life, 
on the speed of swift automobiles and swifter motor- 
boats, but they had never yet sat in a game with a 
sturdy youth’s ability to succeed — despite apparently 
unsurmountable obstacles — as the stakes, and with 
Death as their opponent. 

Warden was the first to break the silence. 

“Are you serious that you would wager me one hun- 
dred thousand dollars that I cannot do what I claim 
I can do ?” he asked, half incredulously. 

“Quite serious,” came from Barbour and McRadden, 
almost simultaneously. “But,” added Barbour, “I 
think that you had better think it over seriously before 
you take any such step.” 

“I am quite ready to make the bargain,” replied 
Warden. He took a wallet from his inner coat pocket 
and from it a folded paper. He opened it, disclosing 
a passport, to which was affixed a small photograph 
of himself, signed by the Secretary of State. He 
passed it around, first to Barbour, who sat nearest to 
where he stood, then to McRadden, Jordan, Quabb and 


THE PASSPORT 


175 


lastly to Clarkson. Each of the five men examined the 
paper and Clarkson handed it back to the young man. 
With a quick movement, Warden extracted a match 
from the holder on the table, struck it and lighted the 
lower edge of the document. 

“There is my passport, gentlemen,” he said, calmly, 
as the flame, having consumed nearly all of the paper, 
neared his fingers. The last vestige of the important 
bit of parchment fell, crumbling into a black mass, 
upon the table. The five men looked uncomfortable 
and moved about nervously in their chairs. 

“The money will be sent immediately to a New York 
bank,” slowly remarked Barbour, in a tone more as if 
he were relating a story in an absent-minded way than 
as if he were giving Warden important information. 
“We will have Hannaford, who is on board, give us 
the benefit of his legal knowledge in drawing up the 
agreement, which will be sent under seal to any address 
in New York you may designate, to be kept for you 
until you return,” he continued, in the same monotone. 
Then, as if with a sudden inspiration, “How are you 
going to prove your travels?” 

“That will be the easiest part of it,” said Warden, 
with a wistful smile playing about his firm mouth. “I 
will produce passes, properly signed and countersigned, 
officially stamped and otherwise identified, from place 
to place, so that you will be able to check off practically 
every mile of my journey,” he added. “Where shall 
we meet again — in New York?” 

“At the Laurel Club,” suggested Jordan. “Notify 
us there. Your message will be forwarded to us if we 
are not in the city and I, for one, will make it a point 
to come to New York to personally congratulate you 
upon your safe return.” 


176 


THE PASSPORT 


“So will I !” exclaimed McRadden. 

“And I ! And I !” came in a chorus from Quabb and 
Clarkson. 

“I shall remain in London, where you can reach me 
at any time in care of the Embassy,” said Barbour, 
earnestly. “I shall remain in London until you return 
there and we will make the homeward trip over the 
Atlantic together, I hope.” 

At daybreak on the Friday following the departure 
from New York and the day after the strange wager 
in the smoking room, all the passengers on the Autania 
were keenly alive to the fact that the vessel was entering 
the danger zone. 

Barring mishap, the steamship was due to make 
Liverpool late that night or early the following morn- 
ing, and all on board, from the captain down, knew 
that the chance of encountering one of the German 
piratical submarines was becoming greater every 
moment. 

An early morning inspection of the lifeboats and 
the lowering apparatus did not tend to remove the 
nervous feeling among the voyagers, while the tre- 
mendous speed maintained and the straining eyes on 
the navigating bridge increased the general atmosphere 
of apprehension. 

Mary Berwin had not been told of the wager with 
the five rich Americans, Warden knowing that she 
would never agree to his taking the risk of travelling 
without an identifying passport. In common with the 
other passengers, the young woman was in a somewhat 
unstrung condition because of the dangerous waters 
through which the vessel was then known to be passing, 
and Warden had all he could do to reassure her, with- 
out adding to her fears. 


THE PASSPORT 


177 


Breakfast was quickly disposed of by the ninety 
and some odd saloon voyagers and not one of them 
had thought for anything except the rail, drawn there 
by the irresistible impulse of humankind to face ap- 
proaching danger — even though it is followed by a 
retreat. 

Marine glasses were passed from hand to hand. An 
innocent gull caused a shudder when, for the moment, 
it was mistaken for a hostile aircraft, while still an- 
other bird of the sea, riding easily on the crest of a 
wave, was instantly recognized as a periscope — by 
those who had never seen a periscope. There were 
feminine exclamations of dismay every now and then 
which, rising to the bridge above, brought impatient 
and angry mutterings from the hardy mariners whose 
eyes never left that wide expanse of water. 

A quartermaster was about to sing out six bells and 
had, in fact, uttered the first of the two words as an 
order to the sailor on the deck below, when, from an- 
other quartermaster in the crow’s nest, there came this 
ominous announcement through the megaphone: 

“Periscope three points off starboard, two miles 
ahead, sir!” 

Instantly the electric annunciator on the bridge 
signalled reduced speed to the engine room below. The 
captain, officers and sailors scanned the sea through 
glasses and between flattened hands. 

“Periscope submerged, sir !” came through the mega- 
phone. 

There lay the danger. 

Until the tell-tale periscope could again be made out 
the navigators on the Autania could not determine upon 
the course that they should take, unless it lay in the 
direction from which they had come, and, in the latter 


178 


THE PASSPORT 


event, it would take valuable time to make the turn. 

All eyes were riveted upon the place where the peri- 
scope had, supposedly, last been seen — it is not easy 
to permanently mark a spot upon the water — when 
there arose from the sea, half a mile distant and off 
the Autania’s starboard bow, a submarine’s upper 
structure. 

As the gray, whale-like craft proceeded on the sur- 
face of the ocean a bit of bunting was displayed from 
her deck. 

It was the German ensign. 

“Heave to at once or I shall sink you!” came the 
signalled order from the undersea boat. 

A sigh of relief came from those on the liner, for it 
was plain that the submarine commander in this case 
did not propose to lay himself open to an accusation 
of being an assassin, as had been the case with the 
moral pervert who destroyed the Lusitania with nearly 
all on board in the name of the Imperial German Gov- 
ernment and German “Kultur.” 

Observing international regulations, the Autania 9 s 
commander ordered the engines stopped. 

The position of the submarine was such that she 
could have directed a torpedo at the British merchant- 
man before the latter could have steamed ahead and 
out of range or turn back and seek safety in that 
direction. 

The passengers, after their first alarm, were calmed 
by the knowledge that no torpedo was to be launched 
until they had left the Autania. 

Crowding the rails, they watched the proceedings 
with breathless interest. 

Within a few moments an officer was seen to step 
out of the access hatch of the submarine, followed by 


THE PASSPORT 


179 


three sailors. The submarine thereupon maneuvered so 
as to come up slowly alongside the Autania. 

With inevitable destruction of his splendid ship a 
matter of foregone conclusion, the irony of Fate, and 
the demand for the largest possible measure of safety 
for his passengers and crew, required that the captain 
show every courtesy and consideration to the enemy. 

For this reason he ordered the accommodation lad- 
der lowered so that the submarine’s officer might pre- 
sent his ultimatum to those on the Autania with as 
little inconvenience and discomfort to himself as pos- 
sible under the circumstances. 

Upon reaching the liner’s deck the German officer 
bowed gravely and politely to the captain and to those 
of the passengers who had gathered to see the formali- 
ties of surrender. 

Warden had rushed below as soon as it was plain 
that the Autania was not to be torpedoed unawares, 
and, when the enemy officer got to the top of the ladder, 
he was one of those awaiting the officer’s arrival on 
deck. 

“I regret the necessity, Captain,” announced the 
young German officer in a pleasant tone, bowing gravely 
once more to those about him and speaking as if he 
were about to decline an invitation to tea, “but,” he 
added, “I am compelled to advise you to abandon your 
vessel immediately. You will be given exactly forty 
minutes in which to put all on board in the boats. 
You can send a wireless message, giving the position 
of the vessel, so that your passengers and crew may 
be rescued by a neutral ship. I believe the New York 
is less than two hours away and the sea is calm. There 
will be little danger for your people, therefore.” 

He bowed again, very stiffly. The Autania’s captain 


180 


THE PASSPORT 


nodded his head slightly, to show that he understood, 
gave quick orders to his officers who were standing by 
and then hurried to his own quarters. 

The news had already spread among the passengers, 
all of whom were scurrying to their cabins to gather 
such personal belongings as they might be able to 
carry with them. Warden alone remained with the 
German officer. 

“Take me with you, on board your vessel,” he said, 
hurriedly and speaking in fluent German, as the young 
officer was turning to descend the ladder. “I am 
Schmidt — No. 38 — geheimlich!” 

The effect of the words was instantaneous on the 
officer. He saluted and extended his hand. Then he 
bowed W r arden to the ladder and himself followed close 
behind. The undersea boat moved away to a point 
about half a mile from the Autania , turned and faced 
the liner and hove to. The sea being smooth, the Ger- 
man officer remained outside the hatch, as did Warden. 
The sailors had gone into the machinery room again. 

Occupied with the maneuvering of the submarine, the 
German lieutenant had not spoken to the young Amer- 
ican, and the latter, fearful of disclosing his real iden- 
tity through conversation, had observed a discreet 
silence. 

Turning his back on the lieutenant for an instant, 
Warden took from a waistcoat pocket a small brown 
vial. At the same time he took from another pocket 
his mask, which he adjusted in the same manner that 
an impersonator on the stage effects his facial change 
with his back to the audience. 

Then, turning suddenly, he sent the vial crashing 
to the steel deck at the lieutenant’s feet. 

The German sank down on the deck and had hardly 


THE PASSPORT 


181 


touched it when another vial was thrown with all the 
force at Warden’s command into the access hatch. 
Warden peered through the opening and could see five 
forms stretched out in the space below decks. 

He himself was the only conscious being on board 
the submarine! 

Looking out over the water, he could see the officers 
of the Autania at their posts by the lifeboats with some 
of the passengers standing about, apparently waiting 
for the signal to put off. On the bridge of the liner it 
appeared to him that the captain or some officer was 
looking at the submarine through glasses. 

Warden did not know how to signal after the manner 
of the mariner. But he took from his pocket a small 
American flag of silk. Pulling down the German ensign 
with one hand, he waived the Stars and Stripes with 
the other. There was no sign that his landlubber 
signalling was being understood from the merchant ves- 
sel, however, and Warden was in despair about making 
those on the Autania understand him when a bright 
idea presented itself to him. 

Still waving the small American flag with his right 
hand, the young man lifted the unconscious German 
lieutenant with his left and let the limp form drop to 
the deck again. Then he climbed over the hatch into 
the machinery room and brought up one of the sense- 
less sailors, after much exertion. 

Evidently this performance was seen from the liner’s 
bridge, for Warden had the satisfaction, a few minutes 
later, of seeing a boat put off from the ship, manned 
by an officer and a dozen sailors. 

As it pulled up alongside the submarine the British 
officer showed the amazement that he felt at seeing 
Warden with a mask over his face. 


182 


THE PASSPORT 


“Why — what — whatever — I say, what is the jolly 
row here?” asked the astonished Briton. 

“Never mind that just now,” said Warden, authori- 
tatively. “Go back to the ship, shout to the captain 
that he need not put his passengers in the boats and 
then hurry back here — quick !” 

The British officer did not question Warden’s right 
to issue orders. Here was a master mind, he reasoned, 
and a master mind to be obeyed — with Yankee alacrity.* 

Within fifteen minutes the lifeboat was back again. 
Warden, in the meantime, had raised four more Ger- 
man sailors to the deck of the submarine. He had 
preferred to do this himself as the fumes from the vial 
in the cramped quarters below deck might still have 
been powerful enough to overcome the British sailors. 

The Autania’s men transferred the German lieuten- 
ant and the five German sailors to their boat and then — 
waited for further orders from the young American, 
as a matter of course. 

“I’ll join you for a look-over,” suggested the Au - 
tania’s officer. 

“You had better not,” replied Warden, “for there 
are fumes down there that may cause you to be over- 
come. Wait a moment until I can tell you how things 
look down there.” He climbed down through the hatch 
and was gone for a short while. 

When he came up again he was carrying a quantity 
of papers, instruments, several uniform coats and a 
little open box full of small articles, including watches, 
pocket knives, razors and other articles of personal 
belongings. He handed the lot over to the sailors in 
the small boat. Then he removed the mask from his 
face, which he offered to the Autania’s officer. 

“Put this mask on first and then you go down the 


THE PASSPORT 


183 


hatchway yourself,” he said. “There are a great many 
instruments that you may care to take along. But be 
sure not to take that mask off,” he added. 

The Britisher did as he was bidden and went down 
into the submarine. Warden took his place in the life- 
boat and awaited the return of the officer. The latter 
soon handed up instrument after instrument, more 
papers, several pairs of boots and a big bundle of 
charts. Then he came on deck. 

“We will close up the hatch,” he said fo Warden, 
“and take a chance on towing this ‘sub’ to Liverpool 
or, at any rate, until we meet one of our own ships. It 
will be a jolly good prize to take in port,” he added, 
smiling. 

There was the greatest excitement on board the 
Autania when the lifeboat put back and the captain 
heard the story of Warden’s adventure. When he was 
asked how he had done it, the young American merely 
said that he had managed to give the Germans an 
anaesthetic. 

With the deserted submarine in tow, the Autania 
resumed her journey, while the passengers enjoyed a 
luncheon considerably relieved at the thought that they 
had met, and vanquished, the only German undersea 
boat probably in that vicinity. 

Warden was, of course, the hero of the hour. Mary 
beamed upon him with a loving admiration that alone 
repaid the young man for all that he had accomplished 
that day. 

With his five friends of the smoking room episode, 
too, he had considerably risen in esteem. 

“That boy will make good on his proposition,” com- 
mented McRadden. 

“I’m not quite so sure as you are that anybody 


184 


THE PASSPORT 


could do what he has undertaken to do,” replied Bar- 
bour. “Do you know,” he said, very earnestly, “I’m 
half sorry I ever suggested that. It has been bothering 
me ever since. As it stands, I would not be able to go 
back to America while that boy is making his way 
through those countries without his papers. I would 
willingly give him the twenty thousand not to make the 
attempt.” 

“You’re a poor sportsman, Barbour,” laughed 
McRadden. 

“I’ve come to believe it is poor sportsmanship to 
urge a perfectly sound young man, and one of your 
own countrymen, to risk his life for a wager,” was the 
reply. “I admire him for his pluck,” continued the 
Westerner. “He’s shown plenty of that to-day, 
but ” 

His words were interrupted by the entrance of young 
Warden in the lounge. He was greeted eagerly by 
the men and a place made for him near the glowing 
open fireplace. 

“Still determined to take us up?” asked Barbour. 
“Really, a chap doing as well as you did to-day has no 
right to risk his life unnecessarily. Why, you only 
saved about eight or nine millions from being lost 
through the destruction of this ship and her cargo, not 
to mention the danger to her passengers by having to 
drift around in small boats. Better call off that im- 
possible wager.” 

Warden smiled. It was not a boastful smile, nor 
was there any boastfulness in his words. 

“Do you doubt but that I will get a free pass across 
the Channel, Mr. Barbour?” he said. “With or with- 
out a passport,” he added. 

“I have no doubt that they will send you across the 


THE PASSPORT 


18 D 


Channel in a warship, if you ask for it,” replied the 
packer. “But,” he continued, “I am not so sure about 
what will happen to you when you fall into the hands 
of the Germans.” 

“We won’t worry about that until the time comes,” 
smilingly declared the young man. “I am engaged in 
a definite plan and I am delighted to meet with oppo- 
sition — your opposition, for it will add to my pleasure 
if I can prove to you finally that you were wrong.” 

Soon after dinner the Autania, still with the cap- 
tured submarine in tow, headed into the Irish Sea. 
Most of the passengers were on deck, trying to peer 
through the darkness, when a British destroyer was 
spoken. To this vessel the Autania’s commander gave 
over the st^bmarine, which was to be taken to some 
nearby port. 

The German lieutenant, Von Wenkel, had been kept 
under guard in a cabin while the five sailors, who could 
not understand at all how they came to be on the 
passenger steamer, had been put under lock and key 
in the Autania's brig. 

Resuming her course towards the Mersey, the big 
liner ran without lights and at high speed, when sud- 
denly the lookout shouted out a warning to the effect 
that something was floating on the surface off the port 
side, momentarily revealed by a stray moonbeam. 

Warden was on the bridge at the time, the captain 
having invited the young man to this forbidden ground 
as possibly the highest compliment he could pay him 
for his services earlier in the day. When the lookout’s 
warning came the captain ordered the searchlight to 
i sweep the water. 

“Don’t do that, whatever you do!” cried Warden. 
“The German submarines and also their torpedoes are 


186 


THE PASSPORT 


fitted with selinicum eyes,” he explained. “These eyes 
are affected by light and the torpedoes will absolutely 
follow the light rays from your searchlights.” 

“How do you know that?” asked the captain in 
astonishment, but at the same time countermanding 
his order for the searchlight to be used. 

“I learned a great deal about the German submarines 
from a German expert in New York,” said Warden. 
“Selinicum, as you know, is a radio-active metal, in- 
stantly affected by light. Light allows a current to 
go through this metal and this current affects the 
rudder mechanism of the torpedo. If your searchlight 
strikes one eye, it will energize that one eye and cause 
the torpedo to turn your way. As it turns your way 
the other eye is energized equally with the first and 
the torpedo will be headed straight into the light. If 
you should turn away your light from the torpedo 
and remain where you were, without getting out of 
range, the torpedo, its rudder being set straight for 
you, would reach you. The Germans have submarines 
without crews in many instances and these are directed 
by wireless either from a secret land station, from 
another vessel or from an airship. But these must, 
perforce, always have a mast and can never go far 
under the water’s surface.” 

The captain was intensely interested in what War- 
den was telling him and, while he leaned over the rail 
and kept his eyes fixed on the waters as the big ship 
plowed her way towards Liverpool, he took in every 
word that the young American was saying. 

“These unmanned submarines,” continued the latter, 
“have driving powers and auxiliaries just the same as 
the ordinary Whitehead torpedoes. The wireless 
simply does what a man would do — release the differ- 


THE PASSPORT 


187 


ent appliances to do their functions. In order to have 
the wireless submarine go to starboard, the operator 
in the station, the steamer or the airship releases a 
wireless impulse. A similar release of another impulse 
fires the torpedo. In the former case the released im- 
pulse affects the rudder and in the latter case it sets 
the spark that fires the torpedo. I have no doubt but 
many of the ships sunk by the Germans so far have 
been destroyed through wireless submarines that carried 
no crews.” 

It was nearly midnight when the great liner arrived 
at the entrance to the river and, passing several British 
guard ships, the Autania anchored for the night within 
sight of the great British seaport. 

Warden was called to the smoking room by Bow- 
den, the veteran steward of the line, where his wager- 
ing friends were assembled. They called him over to a 
corner of the room. 

“Warden,” spoke up Barbour, who had come to con- 
sider the young man in the light of a protege, “in the 
name of all of us I am presenting you with a small 
token of the gratitude that we feel for what you did 
to-day.” He held out an envelope that he had in his 
hand. “If we are not mistaken you are going to be 
married some day to a certain charming young woman 
who is on board here with her mother. It has been 
whispered about the ship, between the exciting moments 
that we have had. This will build a little nest for 
you two when you get through travelling upon the 
suggestion of five damn fools. Take it, old man. 
You’ve earned it ten times over. And with it take our 
blessing for yourself, your young wife and your future 
happiness.” 

Warden was too much taken aback to say anything. 


188 


THE PASSPORT 


He hesitated about touching the envelope and finally 
Barbour, going over to him, placed it in an inside 
pocket of his coat and then held the coat closed, as if 
to prevent Warden from taking it out and returning 
it to the donors. 

“ I don’t know just what to say,” began Warden. 

“Don’t have to,” grunted Jordan. 

One after the other shook hands with him, Barbour 
the last. As the Westerner grasped his hand he said, 
almost pleadingly: 

“If you haven’t any business to keep you on this 
side, go back on the next trip westward with me. 
There is a bright future for you in America.” 

“I am grateful for your friendship,” replied the 
young man, with a sincerity in his tone that left no 
doubt of the feeling he had for this man, whom he met 
for the first time on this voyage. “I am hopeful for 
the bright future that you speak of, but,” he added, 
slowly and earnestly, “I have business that takes me 
to France, to Belgium and to Germany. Good night, 
Mr. Barbour. Remember, I land in England in the 
morning without a passport!” And he smiled mis- 
chievously. 


CHAPTER XI\^ 


A visit to the British Foreign Office is awe-inspiring 
at best, except to the confirmed diplomatist. The 
great, swinging, green felt doors, the serious-faced men, 
the general atmosphere of subdued and restrained ex- 
citement, all combine to make a lay visitor, not ac- 
climated to these conditions, feel timorous and peu de 
chose. If this feeling possesses one upon the occasion 
of a voluntary visit to the mysterious regions where 
the destiny of the empire is controlled, an imperative 
summons to appear before the imperial counselors must 
increase one’s trepidation at least a hundredfold. 

So it was with Richard Warden, when he was directed 
to present himself at the Foreign Office at five o’clock 
that afternoon, a scarce nine hours after landing for 
the first time on British soil, from the Autania. 

There had been some prospect of his spending his 
first day in England in Liverpool — under civil restraint. 
On reaching the landing stage his baggage was ex- 
amined in the perfunctory manner usual to the British 
customs authorities — for Great Britain does not wel- 
come visitors, alien or homefolks, with the immediately 
implied accusation of chicanery with which Uncle Sam 
greets the arrivals from foreign shores — and both his 
trunks and valise were promptly handed over to a 
porter for conveyance to the boat train. The porter 
was about to leave the customs enclosure on the wharf 
when the inspector, with half an apology, asked to see 
JVarden’s passport. Warden had none. Had he mis- 


190 


THE PASSPORT 


laid it? In that case the inspector would be glad to 
accompany him back on board ship to search for it. 
In the meantime the luggage could be held on the 
wharf. Warden calmly declared that he had not mis- 
laid the document. He simply did not have any. He 
wished, however, to reach the Secretary of Foreign Af- 
fairs or somebody with as little delay as possible. 

The customs inspector was sorry, very sorry, but he 
would have to consult with a superior officer before 
passing Warden to the train. He thereupon requested 
the young man to await his return in a small reception 
room on the wharf — another government inspector 
would keep him company — while he should look up his 
chief. 

The moment he closed the door on Warden the cus- 
toms man’s demeanor underwent a change. He ab- 
ruptly ordered the trunk and valise taken to another 
room and told the porter his services would no longer 
be required for this particular luggage. 

Mary and her mother, in the meanwhile, had gone 
aboard the London train, Warden having urged upon 
Mary that, for the purposes of his self-imposed mis- 
sion, it would be better that they travel separately. 
They would meet again at the Savoy, in London, where 
the ladies were to stop during their stay in England. 

The customs inspector, having found an official with 
a greater radius of authority than himself, stated the 
circumstances of Warden’s passportless condition to 
him. 

“Richard Warden? Richard Warden?” the superior 
repeated several times, as if trying to recall a name 
that he had heard before* “Wait a minute,” he said, 
and he dashed off in the direction of another official 
who, from the gold lace that he wore, might easily 


THE PASSPORT 


1911 


have been taken for the Lord of the Admiralty. After 
talking with this personage for a moment, he hurried 
back to where the first inspector stood. “Mr. Richard 
Warden,” he gasped, “is to be treated with every con- 
sideration and courtesy and is to go on this train to 
London. You are to advise him that his presence is 
desired at the Foreign Office at five o’clock to-night.” 

“ ’Old the train, then, quick !” exclaimed the first 
inspector. “ ’Eavens ! Hi was ’olding ’im, too ! ? Im 
without h’a passport!” 

The other gave an order to a train attendant and 
then started off with the inspector to the reception 
room where Warden was awaiting the outcome of the 
conference. 

Both officials made the mos'E profound apologies for 
detaining the American. Would he have the goodness 
to accompany them? He would. 

They took him to the express for London, then being 
held for him — although he did not know that — and 
after seeing him safely in a first-class compartment, 
together with his valise — his trunk having been placed 
in the luggage van — whispered to the conductor, who 
was apparently much impressed. 

A whistle blew, a tremor ran through the train as 
the locomotive gave a convulsive lurch forward, and 
Richard Warden, third, was on his way across Eng- 
land without any official American identification tag, 
but with an abundance of newly acquired self-reliance 
and a greater determination than ever to succeed in 
his mission. 

The knowledge that he was in a foreign land natu- 
rally kept his mind and eyes upon the ever-changing 
panorama of English country life. English architec- 
ture, being new to him, was one fascination. The beau- 


192 


THE PASSPORT 


tiful landscape, the agricultural activity, the splendid 
gardens that rolled in endless variety past his view 
enchanted him. He thought of the fearful, useless 
waste that war would create in such a peaceful scene 
as this and he allowed himself to be carried away with 
the soothing, dreamy enjoyment the country, especially 
in the Spring, brings to those who have lived and toiled 
amid the irritating hustle and turmoil of the congested 
centers of population. 

After two hours’ travelling the train arrived at Bir- 
kendeal, and while the conductor and brakemen called 
out the name of the station and opened the doors of 
the compartments, preparatory to a twenty minutes’ 
stop, he took the opportunity to stretch his legs on 
the station platform. He was standing near his com- 
partment door when a young man whom he had met 
on board the Autania approached him. 

“I did not have an opportunity to see you again 
after the — the adventure with the submarine yester- 
day,” his boat companion said, a trifle hesitatingly. 
“I say,” he added, as if a new thought had struck him 
suddenly, “do you mind if we continue the journey to 
London together? I see you have no one with you in 
there and my compartment is a bit crowded.” 

Warden could not very well make any objections and 
the stranger departed to fetch his “traps.” The latter 
returned a moment later with a satchel which, he said, 
constituted his sole luggage, as he had sailed rather 
unexpectedly. 

“Let me introduce myself,” he volunteered, as he 
handed Warden his card. On it was engraved: 

James Pelton, 

Correspondent of the Lynn Press Syndicate , 

New York, 


THE PASSPORT 


193 


“You are Mr. Warden, are you not?” he continued, 
evidently satisfied with his own answer to the query, 
for he kept right on with the conversation. “Unfor- 
tunately I was taking a nap through the excitement 
of yesterday forenoon and I came on deck only just 
as you were waving to us from the U-40, and ” 

“The U-40?” exclaimed Warden with unfeigned sur- 
prise. “How did you ever learn the identity of that 
boat. How did you learn it was the U-40? There 
was not a sign of it anywhere on board and the Lieu- 
tenant and sailors would not identify their vessel when 
they were questioned later by; the captain of the 
Autania .” 

“Oh, I — I thought I had Heard it called the U-40 
by somebody,” the other hastened to explain. 

The signal for the train to proceed was given just 
then and Warden followed Pelton into the former’s 
compartment. The correspondent was evidently greatly 
interested in Warden’s experience on the submarine, 
for he at once directed the conversation to the thrilling 
encounter the moment the two were comfortably seated 
and the compartment door had been thrown closed by 
a guard. 

“That is strange about there not being anything to 
identity the submarine with,” he commented. “You 
were inside the boat, were you not?” he questioned, 
eagerly. “Were there no papers that gave a clue to 
her identity?” 

“Not a scrap.” 

“But her log. That surely contained something of 
the sort?” 

“Only a list of the ships that she had sunk, I believe. 
I did not read it myself,” added Warden. “All that I 
know is what the Captain of the Autania told me.” 


194 


THE PASSPORT 


“If I am not impertinent, may I ask where yon are 
bound for?” persisted Pelton. 

“To London, same as you are, I take it.” Warden 
was becoming bored. He much preferred to watch the 
scenery and to be allowed to remain engrossed in his 
own thoughts without this incessant conversation.” 

“But after London?” insisted the other. 

“That all depends.” 

“We are due to arrive in London shortly after noon,” 
remarked Pelton, consulting a timetable which he had 
taken from his pocket together with some other papers. 
He put the papers on the seat beside him while he looked 
over the schedule of the trains. 

One little white sheet of paper fluttered, unnoticed, 
from the seat and underneath the one across the aisle. 
Warden saw it but paid no attention to it. He was so 
irritated by the other’s presence that he would not even 
save his companion the possible inconvenience of a lost 
memorandum. 

“Yes, at twelve-fifteen,” commented Pelton, gathering 
up his papers and replacing them in his pocket without, 
however, having noticed the absence of the stray sheet. 
“We might lunch together, if that is agreeable to you.” 

Warden did not reply, but kept looking out of the 
window. 

He had begun to have an instinctive dislike for this 
man, although he could not explain why. The train 
rolled on, Pelton making occasional efforts to draw him 
out on the subject of his immediate plans. 

He thought of Mary and wondered what she was 
thinking of at the moment, removed from him by but 
one or two railroad carriages. A great wave of 
tender sympathy came over him, for he realized the 
viciousness of the blow that deprived a daughter of a 


THE PASSPORT 


195 


feeling of pride and respect for her father. It would 
forever be a black, evil page in the book of her young 
life, especially were her father to meet with the pun- 
ishment that he deserved at the hands of the American 
government. He marvelled at the hand of Destiny that 
had led him into this vortex of events and, by the same 
token, had brought him into the life of her whose father 
was one of the principal zealots in this whirlpool of 
international intrigue. It was, indeed, a strange course 
that Fate had laid out for him and 

His eyes fell on the bit of paper under the seat oppo- 
site. He tried to look unconcerned, but he could have 
sworn that Pelton was following his gaze. As a matter 
of fact, the “Lynn Press Syndicate” man was at the 
moment absorbed in the beautiful country. 

No, he could not be mistaken. It was German script 
on the sheet and the manner of its arrangement proved 
it was either a letter or a complete memorandum of 
some sort. He began to hope that Pelton would not 
discover his loss. In fact, it became imperative that 
he should not. The paper began to assume a huge, 
fantastic shape. He was sure that a slight draught 
in the compartment was causing it to move and make 
noises. It seemed almost impossible that Pelton’s at- 
tention should not be attracted to it, the same as his 
own. Finally it became unbearable and he got up, sat 
opposite Pelton, to look out of the window at the 
Cathedral country from his side of the aisle and then 
placed his feet, as a shield, in front of the truant bit of 
writing. Unfolding a newspaper, he looked at it a 
moment or two, then crumpled it up and tossed the 
prop under the seat, effectually hiding the document 
behind it. 

The ride continued in comparative silence, until 


196 


THE PASSPORT 


finally there came the arrival at Euston Station, the 
disembarkation of the passengers, the cries of the hack- 
men and the porters. It seemed to him, desirous as 
he was that Pelton should leave the compartment first, 
that the fellow lingered unnecessarily. He succeeded, 
however, in ushering his unwelcome companion out 
ahead of himself, which gave him an opportunity to 
pick up the paper under the compartment seat. He 
stuffed it in a side pocket for later perusal. His ex- 
periences during the last few months had made him 
suspicious of everybody, and Pelton had seemed to him 
to be anything but what he claimed to be. 

After seeing Mrs. Berwin and her daughter safely 
in a cab for the Savoy, he arranged for his own trans- 
fer to a less pretentious hotel. 

While Warden had lost sight of Pelton, the latter 
had not lost sight of Warden and his friends. The 
“syndicate correspondent” seemed very much on the 
alert and noted every movement made by the others, 
even to the extent of asking the starter at the cab 
stand what hotel the ladies were bound for. He was 
unable to get similar information as to Warden, only 
because the latter had his trunk checked through by 
a baggage attendant and personally took his grips to 
the cab, giving the driver his directions before Pelton 
knew what he was about. 

A few minutes before five o’clock, after having first 
spent a few moments with Mary and her mother at the 
Savoy, he presented himself at the Foreign Office. 

He was not kept waiting, but was ushered into an in- 
ner room where a dignified, austere man sat at a great, 
fiat, mahogany desk. The latter introduced himself as 
Sir William Purcell, Under Secretary of Foreign Af- 
fairs, and greeted his visitor with as much cordiality 


THE PASSPORT 197 

as it is possible for a British Foreign Office dignitary 
to show. 

“We have heard of your achievement on the Au- 
tania” said Sir William, “and we are glad to welcome 
you here. We understand you are in England on a 
mission connected with the present hostilities on the 
Continent. Do you feel at liberty to enlighten us con- 
cerning this?” 

“My visit here has to do with the war,” said War- 
den, quietly, “although I cannot imagine how word to 
that effect could possibly have reached you prior to 
my coming.” 

“In these days of war, young man, word comes to us 
of everything from every quarter, sometimes from the 
most unexpected quarters,” smilingly commented Sir 
William. 

“Well,” began Warden, “I am in hopes that I may 
succeed in interesting the Allied Powers in my plan, 
which would end the war as soon as my plan was put 
in operation. There are some conditions, however, that 
would have to be considered.” 

“And these conditions?” suggested Sir William. 

“They have to do with the disposition to be made of 
Germany,” replied Warden, seriously. 

The Briton straightened up more stiffly than he had 
sat before. He looked with a certain degree of sar- 
casm at the young man before him. 

“Do I understand that you have constituted your- 
self a conqueror of armies, dictator of terms and Peace 
Tribunal, all in one?” he remarked, in an ironical tone. 
“A most remarkable mission, indeed, young man,” he 
added, with the suspicion of a sneer. 

“That is not the question at all, Sir William,” spoke 
up Warden, ignoring the other’s attitude. “Let me 


i 


198 


THE PASSPORT 


explain my position. I have made a discovery that 
will give one Power a tremendous advantage over an- 
other. The advantage, in fact, is to be considered a 
vital one. My discovery, if in the possession of one 
Power, would make that Power absolutely supreme. To 
put it perfectly plainly, should Germany to-day know 
what I know, she could, within a month, absolutely and 
completely vanquish all of the countries now opposing 
her. After that, she could absorb as many of the neu- 
tral nations of Europe as she liked and then, crossing 
the Atlantic, conquer the United States.” 

Sir William drummed on his desk with his fingers 
as he looked across the room without seemingly paying 
any attention to anything in particular. He moved an 
ink well here and a paper clip there. Had he been 
anything else but a Foreign Office diplomat, one might 
have believed him busy thinking up some plan by which 
to get this madman out of his room without a scene. 
As it was, Sir William had never lost sight of young 
Warden’s face for an instant, while not looking directly 
at him, and he was weighing every word the young man 
uttered from various angles while he preserved a de- 
meanor of complete indifference. 

“And the proof of your wonderful discovery?” Sir 
William allowed his chair to tip back as he turned to 
face Warden. “I suppose you are quite ready to tell 
us just what it is?” 

“If you mean the giving up of the formula, Sir 
William, that would be out of the question. As for the 
effectiveness of my discovery, I suppose that you have 
the report of the Autania’s captain?” The reply was 
given carefully and deliberately. “If you have this re- 
port, you know that the German submarine was cap- 


THE PASSPORT 


199 


tured, with all hands, without any trouble and with- 
out anyone being even hurt.” 

The Under Secretary looked keenly at the young 
man. 

“The report states that you administered an anaes- 
thetic to the officer and the crew, thereby overcoming 
any resistance.” 

“In a way, quite true,” agreed Warden. “But there 
are anaesthetics and anaesthetics. It takes time and, 
oftentimes, brute force to administer the usual anaes- 
thetic, does it not? There was no struggle on the sub- 
marine. The lieutenant and I were on the deck of the 
craft all the time. I did not go down through the 
hatch until the crew were unconscious. I could not, 
therefore, have given an individual anaesthetic to the 
men without a fight in each individual case, could I, 
now? The sailors would have overpowered me, grant- 
ing that I should have been able to hold my own with 
the officer. As a matter of fact, I knew what I was 
going to do when I succeeded in getting the German 
officer to take me on board the submarine, believing me 
a German spy. And — ” he bent forward speaking 
earnestly — “I knew I would succeed! I know I can 
succeed in subduing Germany, but Germany is not to 
be subdued at the expense of the millions of peaceful, 
industrious people who have no stomach for this war.” 

“And with your plan, what would you propose?” 
There was a trace of growing interest in the voice of 
Sir William, as he settled down in his chair. “Really, 
you must pardon me if I look upon this proceeding as 
a trifle absurd. Discussions of this nature generally 
take place in the highest councils only and I cannot 
bring myself to look upon this as a sane conversation.” 


200 


THE PASSPORT 


“My (discovery is at the disposal of the British and 
French governments,” replied Warden. “That is,” he 
added quickly, “the use of my discovery — not the dis- 
covery itself. You are to send me either to one of 
your own ammunition factories or to one in France, 
where I will charge a quantity of shells which are to 
be used by the Allied armies, under my direction. I 
am to receive, at once, a certain remuneration for the 
use of my discovery, say ten million dollars, which can 
ultimately be paid by Germany in the final indemnity 
settlement.” 

“Ten millions!” Sir William smiled sarcastically. 
“There is nothing picayune about your plans, my young 
sir !” 

“If you will consider,” retorted Warden, piqued at 
this implied accusation of being a mercenary, “that you 
are paying five millions every day to continue the war, 
I think that you can afford ten millions to stop it — 
especially if you can do so without further loss of life 
and the surety that you end the war as a victor.” 

“You will not state what the nature of your dis- 
covery is?” inquired Sir William, more and more in- 
clined to be friendly. 

“That would be impossible. Just how that will be 
finally adjusted remains to be seen. I have made pro- 
vision, of course, for the perpetuation of my discovery 
in case anything should happen to me. I hope, how- 
ever, to return in order to arrange for some trust to 
hold the secret which is too terrible an agency of power 
to fall into the hands of either an unscrupulous indi- 
vidual or an unscrupulous nation. You can well im- 
agine ” Warden seemed to be deliberating for a 

moment on the most convincing words in which to couch 
his argument — “fhe condition that would arise if one 


THE PASSPORT 


201 


nation had my discovery as its exclusive right. The 
smallest, most insignificant state in the world could 
become master of every other nation, no matter how 
formidable and no matter how great its military 
strength. Again, if every country had the secret, why, 
it would simply be a case of international strife just 
as it is now, except that a quick move would take the 
place of military or naval superiority as the deciding 
factor in a war.” 

“You do not kill anyone with your plan of cam- 
paign?” 

“I do not even injure anyone.” 

“In the case of a long battle line, how would you 
proceed to subdue the enemy?” Sir William was getting 
much interested now. 

“That is one thing I should like to get to France 
for as quickly as possible,” enthusiastically replied the 
young American. “I would have to see actual con- 
ditions before deciding on the procedure to be fol- 
lowed.” 

Sir William rearranged the position of his chair and 
looked through the top drawer of his desk. “Let me 
have your passport,” he finally said, reaching one hand 
across the table for the expected document. 

“I have none,” simply stated Warden. 

“You have none !” There was surprise in the intona- 
tion of Sir William’s words. 

“No, sir, I have none. I destroyed it three nights 
ago on the Autania after Mr. Jordan, Mr. Barbour, 
Mr. Clarkson, Mr. Quabb and Mr. McRadden — you 
know the millionaire philanthropist — had wagered me 
that I would be unable to move through Europe with- 
out a passport. Great Britain, France and Germany 
were stipulated as the countries through which I was. 


202 


THE PASSPORT 


to travel. I have traveled through England, so far, 
without a passport.” 

“But, my dear young sir,” sputtered Sir William, 
seeing the dignity of the British Foreign Office going 
to smash through a vulgar Yankee wager, “my dear 
young sir, this is all too absurd. Why, you will not be 
able to go a square, I dare say, without being stopped. 
I really cannot see how you managed to leave Liver- 
pool. Did no one ask you for your papers?” 

“Indeed they did,” smilingly returned Warden. “In- 
deed they did, until word came that the Foreign Office 
desired my presenec at five o’clock. Then nobody 
thought of my passport anymore. Now, you give me 
a letter, or a card — to General Merrill, your Field 
Marshall, for instance — and no channel captain will 
hesitate taking me, passport or no passport !” 

“In other words, you are going to, as you call it in 
America, bluff your way through?” If Sir William’s 
smile ever reached beyond the limits of just hovering, 
it might now have been called benign. “Bluff it 
through, in order to win a wager?” 

“No, sir. Bluff it through — if you prefer it that 
way — to show that an honest American can hold his 
own in strange lands, even during strange times. And 
now while we are about it,” he spoke with considerable 
feeling, “do not always bring in the suggestion that 
every move I make is a mercenary one. I don’t like 
it and it has no foundation in fact. A little while ago 
I mentioned ten millions as the price for ending the 
war. I do not want that fortune for myself. I have 
my own plans for that money, but I desire it to come 
to me to do with what I please. If I can have just 
enough, after all this war is over, to live on quietly and 
comfortably, I shall be fully satisfied.” 


THE PASSPORT 


203 


This statement of his grounds, on Warden’s part, 
impressed Sir William. The massive dignity of the 
Foreign Office had begun to crumble before young War- 
den’s naive frankness, like a fortress under a sustained 
bombardment. 

“I declare you are a most remarkable young man,” 
commented the Under Secretary. “I shall be very 
pleased to hear of the success of your odd plan. Of 
course,” he hastened to add, as if to convince Warden 
that he did not consider himself worsted, “I am not at 
all convinced of its plausibility. No, not at all, but I 
shall be pleased to have a further talk with you to- 
morrow morning at, say eleven o’clock, when I shall 
have the head of the War Office here. In the mean- 
time” — filling out an official-looking document — “I 
shall see that you are not molested while in England.” 
He rang for an attendant, to whom he gave the paper 
he had been writing on, with the order that a seal be 
affixed and that it be officially stamped. When the 
paper was returned, a few moments later, Sir William 
handed it to Richard. “Remember, young man, I at- 
tach no present importance to your mission. I am 
giving you this paper merely to — well, to protect you 
in your ridiculous wager.” Then he arose, inclined his 
head courteously, and Warden bowed himself out. 

Escorted by the attendant, he reached the outer door 
and, having received his direction from the flunky, left 
the Foreign Office. 

Darkness had set in as he made his way towards the 
Savoy where he had arranged, should he be able to get 
there by eight o’clock, to dine with Mary and her 
mother. The streets, unlighted and dismal because of 
the London fear for Zeppelin raiders, were for the most 
part deserted. At one time he was aware that but two 


204 


THE PASSPORT 


men besides himself were on the block with him, on the 
opposite side of the street. 

Suddenly, in a particularly dark place, two forms 
sprang out of the shadows behind him. He struggled 
fiercely, desperately, but one of the assailants had 
clapped a handkerchief over his face which the fellow 
was trying to force into his mouth, as he tried to call 
out. The other held his arms back of him as if in a 
vise. 

The one holding the handkerchief partly stuffed in 
his mouth was trying, at the same time, to go through 
his pockets when the two men across the street, who 
had proceeded somewhat in advance of young Warden, 
turned and ran towards where the latter was struggling 
with his assailants. 

The assaulting party fled at the first approach of 
assistance, but two shots that rang out caused one 
of the fugitives to roll into the gutter while the other 
brought up short with a shattered arm. While one of 
the rescuers attended to the wounded assailants, the 
other made anxious inquiries as to the American’s con- 
dition. 

“ ’Twas a bit of a nawsty mess, Sir,” said the man, 
apologetically. “Hope as you’re not injured, Sir?” 

“Not at all, thanks,” replied Warden, shaking the 
dust off his clothes and readjusting his coat, waistcoat 
and scarf, which had become disarranged in the scuffle. 
“But” — with some curiosity — “how was it you folks 
were right here to help me ? Are you police officers ?” 

“Government officers, begging your Lordship’s par- 
don,” was the answer, given with a show of pride at 
being government help and also with a slight trace of 
contempt at having been suspected of being merely a 
policeman. “We’re from the Foreign Office, Sir, spe- 


THE PASSPORT 


205 


cially detailed to guard you, Sir. Glad for us nothing 
serious happened, Sir.” 

“Yes. So am I — for myself,” commented Warden. 

A small crowd had gathered about the two fugitives 
and their captor while Warden and the other officer 
were standing by themselves, the crowd not connecting 
them with the shooting. 

The fellow who had tumbled in the gutter was re- 
ported to be in a serious condition. His name, trota 
cards in his pockets, was believed to be James Pelton, 
an American journalist, Warden was told. 

He looked puzzled when he heard this. He thought 
quickly over the events of the day. Then he fumbled 
in his pockets and in one of those in his coat found the 
sheet of paper with the German script all over it. He 
folded it carefully and placed it in an inside pocket. 
His thoughts were interrupted by one of the govern- 
ment sleuths. 

“Will you appear at the magistrate’s in the morning 
against these men, Sir?” 

“Will they go to a hospital?” he asked of the officer. 

“I’m afraid so, Sir. One of them is rather bad, Sir.” 

“Then hold them in the hospital until you receive 
orders from Sir William Purcell as to their later dis- 
position,” said Warden. “I shall see Sir William about 
it. In the meantime, do not let them talk to anyone 
except to one of yourselves. This is a government job, 
I think. Not one for the police.” 

“Very good, Sir!” And the two men saluted him 
gravely, their chests high with pride now that the im- 
portance of their government connection was firmly 
established and the taint of mere police affiliation ef- 
faced. 

It being too late for his dinner engagement, Warden 


206 


THE PASSPORT 


decided to go to his own lodgings and dine quietly by 
himself before turning in. He hailed a cabby at the 
next corner and, as he entered the vehicle, was sur- 
prised to see one of his two rescuers at his elbow. 

“Begging your pardon, Sir, I’ll ride with the cabby 
and see you safely at your hotel. Those are my or- 
ders, Sir,” volunteered the man. 

“Jump right in with me then,” laughed Warden. 
“Have a cigar” — and he handed a weed to his govern- 
ment friend as he lit his own — “you can take the rest 
of the night off as I shall not leave the hotel until nine 
in the morning.” He settled himself comfortably in the 
leather and the two rode on in silence. 

And so Sir William attached no importance to his 
mission! Warden smiled to himself as he thought of 
his visit to the Foreign Office. Sir William’s words 
came back to him, “I shall see that you are not molested 
while in England.” 

Sir William had indeed kept his word. 


CHAPTER XY 

It was not until he was in his room, after a modest 
but. much needed refreshment in the restaurant, and 
as he was laying out the papers that he had taken 
from his pockets, that he again thought of the memo- 
randum dropped by Pelton in the railway compart- 
ment. Drawing a comfortable, old-fashioned easy 
chair to the table light, he settled down to decipher the 
German script. 

There appeared to be no head or tail to the writing. 
It looked like a collection of the letters of the alphabet 
in which the consonants were far in the majority. 

slrcptgcpxgetTnluclicjamk'kylbylrugprqgcrpc 
ddclbykndcpxsqgliclsczcpeczcrgfknyngcpctcp 
yljyggrgflqaflcjjkmejgaflyafugjfcjkfytcldy 
fpclucllJcmej gafzcejcgrcrgfltmlqryJcJc 

That it was a message there seemed no doubt and 
that it was a code message was equally certain. One 
thing was also plain — that Pelton was evidently not 
Pelton at all and that there was some sinister motive 
behind the attack made on him a few hours before, 
which only Sir William’s thorough precautions had 
contravented. 

The more he looked at the German script in his hand 
the more anxious he became to know what the incon- 
gruous medley of consonants and vowels represented. 
Pie tried diverse methods of unravelling the code. 

Taking each letter as representing the next letter 


208 


THE PASSPORT 


following it in the alphabet, on a guess, produced no 
results whatever. Accepting each letter as represent- 
ing the one just preceding it in the alphabet, led to no 
better success. Placing the fifth and tenth letters in 
similar respective positions brought him no nearer to a 
solution of the enigma. 

He began, systematically, to take the second, third 
and then the fourth letters in the alphabet, preceding 
the letters written on the sheet and using them, in their 
turn, in place of the German script. 

The result in each case was exactly as unintelligible 
an arrangement of letters as in the original writing. 

Having already eliminated the fifth letter preceding, 
he worked out, separately, the sixth, then the seventh, 
eighth, and, finally, the ninth preceding letters. 

Finding no solution in that direction he reversed his 
scheme and began on the second letter in the alphabet 
following the letter in the mysterious script. 

Thus, for the initial s he got a u; for the l he had an 
n; for the r he secured a t. Unt! 

Here, at least, was a combination that sounded like 
something! He worked out the c which became an e 
and then the p, which became an r. Unter! 

A thrill went through him as he bent over his labors 
and he worked feverishly on the next letters. 

The t became a v and the g an i — the c an ^ and then 
the p , again, an r. Vierl That was the German equiv- 
alent for the English word, four. The unter would 
mean under in English so that, so far, he had underfour. 

It meant nothing to him as yet but, at least, there 
was rational sound to the combination. 

The x would, by his present reckoning, become a z 9 
the g and i and the e would change to g. 


THE PASSPORT 


209 


That gave him zig. Untervierzig. Under forty ! 

Suddenly there came to his mind Pelton’s slip of the 
tongue as the fellow had questioned him regarding his 
adventure with the submarine. Pelton had inadvert- 
ently called it the U-40, in the absence of any knowl- 
edge on board the Autania as to the German’s identity. 
Here, then, was something in connection with the Ger- 
man unterseeboot — the U-40 ! 

He worked with renewed energy. 

t m l u c l i c } 

v o n w e n k e l 

Here he had Von Wenkel! That was the name of 
the commander of the submarine which he had van- 
quished. The next ten letters, amkkylbylr , became 
commandant . 

The combination was now complete. Unter vierzig 
Von Wenkel Commandant . The script evidently con- 
cerned the submarine which, luckily for the Autania , 
had been put out of commission before it could do the 
great British liner any harm. 

Next came ugprqgcrpcddcl. He translated these 
into wirdsietreffen . In English this would mean, liber- 
ally, will meet you or, perhaps, will intercept you . 

The meaning of the message was now plain. Pelton 
had received word that the Autania would be met by, 
or intercepted by, the U-40 ! 

Following up his method, as before, he found that 
bykndcp became dampfer and that x sqglicl represented 
zusinken. Dampfer zu sinken! To sink the steamer! 
He was getting along. Von Wenkel, of the U-40, was 
to meet and sink the Autania ! 


210 


THE PASSPORT 


The succeeding letters worked out equally well. 

s czcpeczcrgfk n y n 

uebergebeti h m p a p 

gcpct epyl jyqqrgf 
ter ever anlassti h 

l q a f l c j j Jc mejgaflya 
ns chnellmo g l i c h n a c 

fugjfcjkqfyt cl d y 
h w i Ihelms have nf a 

f p c l n c l l k m e j g a f z 

hr enwennmo g l i c h b 

cejcgrcrgfl t m l q r y k k 
e g l e i t e t i h n v o n s t a m m 

Separating the words made up of the continuous let- 
ter code, he had the message in full : 

Unter vierzig Von Wenkel commandant wird 
sie treffen dampfer zu sinken Uebergebet ihm 
papier e veranlasst ihn schnell mogelich nach 
JVilhelmshaven fahren ivenn mogelich begleitet 
ihn von stamm. 

“So,” thought Warden, “it was all planned from 
the moment we left New York! Mr. Pelton was ad- 
vised that the U-40 would meet him, with Von Wenkel 
the commander. He was to give Von Wenkel certain 
papers and bid him make all speed to Wilhelmshaven 


THE PASSPORT 


211 


after sinking the Autania! And Pelton was to go with 
the submarine if it was possible. The papers! What 
papers can they mean? They are still in Pelton’s pos- 
session, no doubt, since we got the U-40 instead of the 
U-40 getting us. By Heavens, those papers must be 
of extreme importance if they had to get them to Ger- 
many that way!” 

He began pacing up and down his room, still holding 
the translation in his hand. The last two words of the 
script puzzled him, until it suddenly came to him that 
Yon Stamm was the counselor accredited to the German 
Embassy at Washington. Here was indisputable proof 
that the Germans were directing their campaign of 
destruction and wanton killing from America, officially 
violating the neutrality of his country. 

When he awoke in the morning it was daylight. His 
sleep had not been restful for he had lived again, in his 
dreams, the eventful days of the past months, with the 
distortions and exaggerations usual to one’s subcon- 
scious activities. His first thought, as he leaped out of 
bed, was the code script. The letters had blazoned 
forth, with a lurid, ghostly light, throughout his fitful 
slumbers, gathering import in their ominous meaning 
as they appeared and reappeared to him. 

He was engaged with a cup of chocolate and a roll 
when, through the open doors of the breakfast room, 
he saw his official friend of the night before awaiting 
him in the foyer. While the hour was too early for a 
visit to Whitehall and Sir William, he decided to inves- 
tigate Pelton’s identity so that he might be prepared 
to give assistance to the Foreign Office in the case of 
the quasi-correspondent of the Lynn Syndicate. 

The government detective told him that a claim check 


212 


THE PASSPORT 


found in Pelton’s pocket, calling for a piece of bag- 
gage, might lead to a clew. As the detective had the 
claim check with him, he suggested that the officer go 
with him to Euston Station and get whatever the check 
should bring forth. It would, he thought, very likely 
prove to be the satchel the fellow had with him in the 
train compartment and which Pelton had then declared 
to have been his sole luggage. In this surmise Warden 
was right. 

An examination of the satchel, in a corner of the 
waiting room, disclosed nothing incriminating, however. 
Disappointed, both Warden and the detective decided 
to go to the Foreign Office. 

“We shall take the chance of disturbing Sir William 
before the appointed hour,” said the American. 

Ordinarily the heads of the British Foreign Office 
do not arrive at their posts until the day is fairly well 
advanced but on this particular morning there ap- 
peared to be unusual activity in the sombre halls. Sub- 
ordinates were flitting here and there, out of one room 
and into another, never without either an armful or a 
handful of official-looking documents, and everyone of 
them with the solemnity consistent with serious events 
indelibly marked upon his face. 

Warden did not have long to wait before he was sum- 
moned to Sir William’s room. He took the government 
sleuth with him, although that worthy protested that 
he should not appear before the Under Secretary with- 
out a special order to do so. 

“You go along with me,” Warden told him. “I am 
responsible for taking you in there.” 

Sir William listened with evident concern to the re- 
cital of the events of the night before and bestowed a 
nod of recognition upon the officer — who had remained 


THE PASSPORT 


218 


standing at attention at the door — as Warden related 
how promptly he and his partner had come to his 
rescue. 

He was still relating the story and was on the point 
of submitting to the Under Secretary the translation 
of the German script, when a clerk came into the room 
rather abruptly, so abruptly that Sir William was on 
the point of reprimanding him. There was something 
about the action of the clerk, however, that halted the 
intended reproof and Sir William glanced first at the 
paper that the clerk was handing him. The Briton’s 
face blanched, the skin of it seemed to draw tight and 
turn to a ghastly, pasty yellow. His mouth was set 
and he gripped his desk with his free hand. Looking 
up, although apparently not taking heed of anyone in 
particular, he stared blankly across the room for an 
instant. 

“Bad news this morning. Very bad news.” He 
spoke mechanically and as if his throat were parched. 
“The enemy has begun another drive towards Paris as 
well as one towards Holland from the South. An absurd 
ultimatum has also been sent by Berlin to the govern- 
ment at Washington. The communication is, on the 
face of it, one that the American government cannot 
but interpret as a direct threat.” 

Warden stood dumfounded at the news. 

“Under the circumstances, Sir William, you will ex- 
pedite my departure for the Continent?” 

He spoke earnestly and eagerly. “I have a double 
purpose now. I must show this German Emperor that 
he cannot do what he pleases with my country, even 
though he has tried to do so with the nations of Eu- 
rope.” 

Sir William hesitated a moment. 


214 


THE PASSPORT 


“If the new turn affairs have taken does not dissuade 
you from your purpose,” he said slowly, “I shall give 
you a letter to our General Staff. The figures you 
mentioned in our previous interview will be satisfac- 
tory but I would advise you not to meddle in any set- 
tlements or to impose any absurd conditions. This 
war is a serious thing and we, who are defending our- 
selves against the aggressors, know best what penalties 
to impose upon those who have transgressed. Let those 
matters be taken care of by older and more experienced 
heads. If you are able to accomplish what you say 
you can accomplish you will have need of all your self- 
restraint afterwards, for you will have done the world 
a gigantic service, such as has never been rendered the 
world before. You can leave for Calais to-night. The 
letter I shall give you will be sufficient passport.” 

An hour later Warden, arriving at the Savoy, was 
ushered into the Berwin suite, to find Mrs. Berwin 
alone and on the verge of hysterics. 

“Why, what is the matter?” he asked in surprise. 

“You — you are here?” Mrs. Berwin was evidently 
laboring under great excitement and her voice was 
hardly audible. 

“Of course I am here. Where is Mary ?” 

“My God, you don’t mean to say you did not send 
for us — last night — to take the night boat from Har- 
wich to Holland? Oh!” her face became purple 

with the anguish that she felt — “Richard! Mary went 
to Holland — on the boat — last night — when the letter 
— from you — came here. I was too ill to make the trip 
so — so she went alone — to join you and — to bring you 
the — sealed parcel.” 

“But I sent no letter and no parcel!” The word 


THE PASSPORT 


215 


parcel suddenly became of sinister meaning to him. 
“Tell me — tell me all about it, as distinctly as you pos- 
sibly can!” he urged. 

A great fear was gripping at his heart. Neither the 
letter nor the parcel being his, there must have been 
some ulterior motive in the plan to get Mary and her 
mother out of England. 

“Let me see the letter,” he said. “Is it here?” 

“No,” wailed the mother. “She took it with her.” 

“What did it say?” he almost shouted the query. 
“For God’s sake, tell me quickly!” 

“It said,” began Mrs. Rerwin, between her sobs and 
moans, “that you had been called to Germany suddenly. 
For Mary and I to take the night boat to the Hook of 
Holland and to proceed to Kleve, in Germany, by way 
of Nymegen, Holland. Two tickets came with the let- 
ter and the parcel. Mary took the letter and the 
parcel, which was to be delivered to you in strict se- 
crecy. The other ticket she left with me, for me to use 
later and follow her.” 

She handed the strip of transportation to him. It 
provided for a first class passage by train to Harwich, 
by boat to the Hook of Holland and by rail thence to 
Nymegen, Holland, near the German frontier. 

“Good Heavens, she will be in Germany by now — • 
alone !” groaned Warden, falling into a chair and bury- 
ing his head in his hands. Then, straightening up, 
“Never mind! I shall follow her immediately. I was 
to leave Calais to-night. Instead, I shall follow the 
route Mary took. You must remain here. I would 
never have thought of sending you two away from Eng- 
land. You cannot possibly help in the search for 
Mary ” — he spoke decisively as Mrs. Berwin began to 
protest at being left behind — “it would only handicap 


216 


THE PASSPORT 


me by having to look after you also while looking for 
Mary. I’ll get you a professional companion so that 
you will not be alone and I will advise you promptly 
when I reach the German border.” 

Although without definite hope of reaching her by a 
telegram, he sent a message to Nymegen, to the rail- 
road station master, asking that Miss Mary Berwin, of 
New York, if she had not yet passed through that 
Dutch city, be requested to remain there. 

He made his way back to the Foreign Office as quickly 
as he could. 

Oblivious to everything about him, he paid no atten- 
tion to the fact that the two government sleuths of the 
night before were on his very heels, compelled to make 
faster moves than any two Britishers had ever been 
known to make before on official business in London, 
for Warden lost no time in hailing a conveyance and 
jumping into it. 

Sir William was surprised to see him back so soon 
after his morning visit and especially in the state of 
mind in which the young man evidently found himself. 

Warden’s eyes were blood-shot, he had an anxious, 
desperate look in his eyes and he did not stand upon 
ceremony in entering the sacred precincts of the Un- 
der Secretary’s Office. 

As briefly as he could he explained to Sir William 
the circumstances of Mary’s departure for the Con- 
tinent. 

“There was some sinister motive behind this forged 
summons for Miss Berwin to leave London,” he urged 
upon the British official. “As for the parcel that was 
sent to her to be given to me upon her reaching Ger- 
many, I am almost certain it contained the papers 
mentioned in the German code message that I handed 


THE PASSPORT 


217 

you this morning. They — whoever they may be — are 
using Miss Berwin, without her knowledge, to carry 
important secret papers into Germany, papers that 
were considered important enough for special trans- 
mission to Wilhelmshaven by a submarine, after the Au - 
tania should have been sunk.” 

“What is your plan now?” asked Sir William. 

“To go to Germany, via Holland, to-night,” was 
the emphatic reply. “I may possibly find that Miss 
Berwin has been stopped at the Dutch border — if my 
telegram reached Nymegen in time.” 

“Then you will not need a letter to our General 
Staff,” suggested Sir William. “In fact, you had bet- 
ter not have such a letter about you!” 

“That is exactly it. I shall, however, need a letter 
to the British Minister at The Hague, to see me safely 
into Holland and, incidentally, safely out of London 
and Harwich.” 

A nod from Sir William indicated that he under- 
stood the necessity of such a document. He handed to 
Warden a report that he had received on the two as- 
sailants of the night before, which Warden perused 
while Sir William busied himself with some writing. 

The report told him that “Pelton” would recover 
and that both men were being held excommunicado 
pending disposition of their case by the Foreign Office. 
Pelton’s real name, so the report stated, was Schlemm 
while that of his accomplice was Ehrmann. Although 
neither of the two had made any voluntary statement, 
the secret service had trapped them into divulging their 
identity by placing them in one room in which a dicto- 
graph had been installed. The two had, in this way, 
thoroughly committed themselves as being German 
spies. 


£18 


THE PASSPORT 


Sir William looked up from his writing about the 
same time that Warden finished the reading of the 
report. 

“You will take this letter with you to-night,” he said, 
reaching Warden a long envelope that showed seals 
and official stamping. “I do not think you will be in- 
terfered with on your journey — until you reach Ger- 
man territory. After that I shall not be responsible 
for your safety, but” — he bent forward and spoke very 
deliberately, looking straight at Warden — “I am in- 
clined to believe, young man, that you will be able to 
take care of yourself. Yes — ahem — I am beginning to 
look more and more seriously upon your self-imposed 
mission.” 

Warden bowed his acknowledgment of this con- 
cession. 

“Did you receive a report from the Autania’s cap- 
tain about the infernal machine that was found in my 
trunk?” he asked. 

“I did. But I cannot quite reconcile that act with’ 
the code message this man Pelton lost.” 

“Neither can I, Sir William. I rather think that 
the bomb in my stateroom was the act of an individual 
spy who did not know that an official spy was going 
as a passenger.” 

As Warden was leaving the Foreign Office, a taxi- 
meter motorcab slowed down at the curb. 

“Fare, Sir?” asked the driver. 

“No thanks,” replied Warden, as he walked along 
at a brisk clip. 

He went to the Savoy again, after first engaging, at 
an agency, a companion for Mary’s mother ; finally he 
reached his lodgings, where he looked over his effects 
so as to take along as little luggage as possible. He 


THE PASSPORT 


219 


arranged for the storing of his trunk in the hotel and 
put all that he needed in one big satchel, deciding to 
purchase what new linen he might get in need of as he 
went along. He filed a cable to his father saying that 
he was well. It was the first to be sent under the 
agreement whereby he was to notify his home of his 
safety at least once a week, in the absence of which 
notification the package he had left with his father was 
to be opened. 

There being time to spare before he needed to take 
train for Harwich, he settled himself down for a brief 
retrospection. He could not efface from his mind the 
picture of Mary innocently travelling into danger with 
what was probably a bundle of damaging papers — 
should they be intercepted before she reached Ger- 
many. And after reaching Germany! he jumped 

to his feet. Why, those papers were very likely in 
connection with the proposed German operations 
against the United States ! No, he must not lose any 
time tracing Mary and the mysterious sealed packet. 

It was quite dark when he left his hotel, valise in 
hand, just in time to hear called out, from the curb: 

“Fare, Sir?” 

Looking up, he recognized the driver who had so- 
licited his patronage in front of the Foreign Office, 
some hours before. 

“You’re a hustler,” he said to the man, smiling. 
“Go ahead. Get me to the Harwich train.” 

While he did not know the exact length of time it 
should take to drive to the railroad station in Liver- 
pool Street, he felt that they had been on the way a 
long time when he suddenly roused himself from a 
reverie. Also, the fact that they were, apparently, in 
the suburbs made him take notice of the course the 


220 


THE PASSPORT 


motorcab was taking. He opened the door and leaned 
out from the side of the cab. 

‘‘Here!” he shouted. “Where are you going?” 

“Get you there in a moment, Sir!” was the cheerful 
reply from the driver’s seat. At the same time the 
car seemed to take on a new burst of speed that sent 
the dust flying over the road in a dense, obscuring 
cloud. 

A moment later, after consulting his watch by the 
glow of his cigar, and seeing that the car was still 
racing along the country road, he again leaned out of 
the vehicle. 

“You stop right here!” he ordered, angrily, making 
a threatening gesture with his right hand. “I do not 
believe that you know where you are going!” 

The speed not diminishing, it began to dawn upon 
him that he was at the mercy either of a driver gone 
mad or of a designing conspirator. 

In the hope of attracting outside attention he swung 
his valise at arm’s length out of the cab, shouting 
meanwhile at the driver. 

It was impossible to jump from the car at the speed 
it was making. 

His indecision as to what course to pursue was in- 
terrupted at that moment by a revolver shot. 

At the same time a heavy motorcar came out of 
the darkness, its headlights gleaming through two 
powerful beams, tearing down the country road after 
the fleeing taximeter vehicle. 

An instant later the touring car, on the running 
board of which stood a man, whom he recognized as one 
of the two Foreign Office secret agents, came alongside 
his own car. The government agent held a revolver 


THE PASSPORT 221’ 

and, as the two cars raced abreast of each other, he 
pointed it at Warden’s driver. 

“Stop instantly, or I’ll shoot!” yelled the govern- 
ment official. 

Without waiting for his driver to obey or disobey 
the order, Warden opened the door of the cab nearest 
to the pursuing motor and flung his satchel into the 
touring car’s tonneau. 

Then, before his driver knew what was happening, he 
leaned far out and leaped from the running board of 
the cab to that of the big car. At the same time the 
big car slowed down. As it did so and the cab drew 
away in the lead, two well directed shots from the 
agent’s revolver punctured the rear tires of the taxi. 

As the shots were fired the government car stopped 
while the smaller vehicle, skidding in the sand, toppled 
over on the side of the road. The two agents ran to 
the wreckage and pulled from underneath the cab the 
bruised and dazed chauffeur. He was bundled into the 
touring car’s tonneau, between the two government 
agents, while Warden was bidden to take his seat be- 
side the driver. Then the big car was turned back in 
the direction from which it had come. 

“We could not imagine where you were bound for,” 
said one of the officers to Warden. “We were escort- 
ing you to the train, as we thought, until we saw the 
cab race into the country. When you swung your 
valise we knew something was wrong.” 

As he talked, he and the other secret service agents 
searched the semi-conscious chauffeur. The fellow de- 
clined to answer questions. Nothing was found upon 
him to indicate who he was beyond his license as a 
driver. 


222 


THE PASSPORT 


In his official record book, in which every driver of 
a public conveyance in England must enter the hailing 
point and the destination of each fare carried, there 
was an entry that interested Warden mightily, how- 
ever. It referred to a call, on the night before, from 
the Hotel Savoy to the railroad station in Liverpool 
Street — the train for Harwich. The “fare” was a 
woman according to the entry, and Warden figured 
that this lone traveller was hastening to the Harwich 
train in the same cab that he had just abandoned, 
about the time that he was being held up by “Pelton” 
and his accomplice. There was no question in his mind 
but that the “fare” was Mary Berwin, and he gave this 
theory to the government men for use in the case of 
the chauffeur-prisoner. 

The big car was making slower headway through the 
darkness and as the houses became more numerous. 
The road, however, seemed deserted and few lights 
blinked from windows along the way. The fear of the 
Zeppelins was strong upon these peaceful hearths and 
roving bands of marauders, against which they might 
have been warned, could not have kept the country res- 
idents to their own doors more effectually. 

There was still time to catch the train — which leaves 
Liverpool Street Station nightly at eight o’clock — un- 
less an unforseen mishap should be met with. 

One of the agents alighted from the car with Warden 
when it drew up at the railroad station, and started for 
the train with him. 

“Are you to go to Harwich with me?” ^Warden in-? 
quired. 

“Those are my orders, sir.” 

“Then I suppose we can travel together?” 

“I think it would be better for me to leave you at 


THE PASSPORT 


223 


the gate here, sir. I’ll be close at hand, however.” 

Warden presented his ticket to an official who was 
examining the transportation of all passengers. 

“Your name, sir?” this official asked, politely and 
pleasantly. 

“Richard Warden!” 

A reference to a list he had, caused the man to sa- 
lute. 

“You — you have papers?” 

Warden showed the sealed and officially marked en- 
velope that he had in an inside coat pocket. There 
was another salute, and then: 

“Very well, sir. Pass right on, sir.” 

A moment later Warden was in his compartment. 
There he found two other passengers, a man and a 
woman, who had entered just as he neared the open 
door. Before the door was closed by a railroad porter, 
a third passenger, a bearded man, climbed in and took 
a seat near the end furthermost from where Warden 
was sitting, but opposite to the other man and the 
woman. 

During the two hours’ run to Harwich the man and 
woman offered Warden their newspapers and maga- 
zines. The man went so far in his friendly overtures 
as to hand him a glass with an offer of refreshment. 
Before Warden had an opportunity to either accept or 
refuse the beverage, the bearded stranger suddenly 
started up from his seat and, quite accidentally, 
bumped the extended hand that held the glass, causing 
it to fall and spill its contents on the floor of the car. 
Something about the incident and the bearded man’s 
movement caused Warden to decline a second offering. 

A few minutes before ten o’clock the train pulled 
into the Harwich terminal where the steamship Javaan 


224s 


THE PASSPORT 


lay moored across the landing wharf. The couple 
were the first to leave the compartment. The bearded 
man followed closely on Warden’s heels. 

“I cannot go further,” he whispered as he stopped 
for an instant at the compartment door. “Watch out 
closely to-night. Lock your stateroom door and trust 
nobody. Especially not the two you travelled with to- 
night. I am sure they tried to drug you with that 
glass they offered you.” 

“But they did not know I would be on the train 
since, if your idea is correct, one of their own men was 
to kidnap me in his motorcab,” protested Warden. 

“German spies take no chances. They will have 
several on the same trail always, in case one method 
fails. Rest assured they knew it as soon as you did 
yourself that the kidnapping had failed.” Then the 
bearded man disappeared. 

“Gentlemen this way! Ladies this way!” called out 
one of the Javaan’s officers. 

Passports are of double service to married folks 
sailing by the Harwich route for, except in the case of 
those travelling in connubial bliss, the men are kept in 
one section of the “Hook” boats while the women are 
concentrated in an Adamless Eden at the other end. 

The British inspector at the single men’s gang plank 
passed Warden without a question, which would have 
made the American wonder except that he saw his 
bearded travelling companion at the inspector’s elbow. 

There were, apparently, less than fifty passengers 
for the Javaan and Warden was soon esconced in a 
more or less comfortable stateroom. A preliminary 
wheeze or two was followed by a hoarse, deep-toned blast 
on the whistle as the Dutch steamship began moving 
away from the wharf. Looking through the port, War- 


THE PASSPORT 


225 


den noted that there were none of the harbor lights 
usually seen at a night departure. The den$e gloom 
outside was intensified by an occasional flare of a 
searchlight, mainly directed at the heavens, and for 
the rest there were only the shouts of the matrozen , 
as they hurried here and there on deck overhead, and 
the rhythmic wash-wash of the seas against the J avaan’s 
side. 


CHAPTER XVI 


The intermittent stopping, backing and going for- 
ward again of the steamer awakened him just as the 
day was breaking. From the port in his room he saw 
the Dutch landscape — fields over which hung a flaky 
mist in lumps, like whipped cream unevenly distributed 
over a big pudding. There were large numbers of black 
and white cows, each animal with a cover of canvass 
strapped over its back, for all the world like a pet 
house dog with a blanket. This, he was later told by a 
steward, was to protect the cattle from the heavy dew 
common to the Low Lands. 

He had been anxious to interview the stewardesses 
on the Javaan, in order to find the one, if possible, who 
had attended Mary on the crossing of the night before ; 
for the Javaan was making a “double-header,” her sis- 
ter ship, the Batavier , with which she usually alternated, 
being temporarily out of commission. But the separa- 
tion of the sexes on the Hook boats also separated the 
stewards and the stewardesses, so that the latter were 
not accessible to Warden when he came on board at 
night and he had to content himself with waiting for 
the hour of debarkation before he could hope to get the 
information that he longed for. 

A night fog had caused some three hours of delay 
and it was nearly seven o’clock before he saw the haw- 
sers made fast at the landing stage. 

On the deck he found the couple who had been in the 
London-Harwich train with him and it seemed to him 


THE PASSPORT 


227 


that they eyed him with more than passing curiosity. 
He wandered about, making inquiries of stewardesses 
as he met them in their neat blue-white uniforms of linen 
and their little white, fluted caps. One after the other 
answered him in the negative. None had had a Miss 
Mary Berwin as a passenger on the preceding eastward 
trip of the Javaan. Finally, he found one who was 
sure, from the description that he gave of Mary, that 
the young woman had been one of her passengers, al- 
though she did not remember the name. She was with 
two other women, of about her own age, said this stew- 
ardess, her companions being evidently Germans. The 
one who answered the description of Mary Berwin had 
kept to her room and had not required any special ser- 
vices, except the usual chocolate and toast just be- 
fore landing in the morning. 

“Now that I of it think a little more,” added the 
stewardess, when the matter had been allowed to thor- 
oughly permeate her brain, “I found a package that 
by the young lady was left behind. It had the name 
of a gentleman written on it. Wait, please, a moment.” 
She hurried away, to return a few moments later with 

a sealed packet, doubly secured with twine and 

addressed “Richard Warden, Esqre., To Be Delivered 
by Hand.” 

When Warden made a move as if to take the packet 
from her, saying he knew the one for whom it was in- 
tended, the stewardess withdrew her hand and held the 
packet, hesitatingly, behind her back. 

“The young lady will assuredly make inquiries,” she 
said. “And— and I shall likely a little present receive 
because I have it safely kept for her.” 

“I think I can arrange it all to your satisfaction.” 
Warden took some personal letters, in their original 


228 


THE PASSPORT 


envelopes, from his pocket. “In the first place” — he 
showed her his name on several of the envelopes — “you 
see, I am the one to whom the parcel is addressed. 
Now, as for the other” — he extracted a gold piece from 
his change wallet — “I think this will cover any little 
present the young lady might have made you.” The 
trade was concluded with avidity, no less on his part 
than on that of the stewardess, and he lost no time 
in carefully stowing the packet away in a pocket from 
which it should have no opportunity to stray. He felt 
sure now that he would reach Mary before she crossed 
the frontier for she would, undoubtedly, miss the pack- 
age that he was supposed to be in need of and would 
make inquiries as soon as she discovered her loss. 

He engaged a compartment for his exclusive use on 
the accommodation train to Rotterdam — a ride of 
three-quarters of an hour — so that he might have an 
opportunity to study the contents of the packet at his 
leisure and in privacy. 

The doors were being closed on the compartments 
and he was just stepping into his own when: 

“ Alles gereed!” came from the several train em- 
ployes. 

He had settled himself comfortably on the super-up- 
holstered seat at the window, as his door was slammed 
shut, when he saw a commotion on the deck of the Ja - 
vaan , across the wharf. Two women were gesticulat- 
ing frantically at the steamer end of the gang-plank 
with the stewardess who had exchanged the sealed 
packet for his sovereign pointing as frantically towards 
the train on which he was. 

“ Afluiden /” The order from the conductor was fol- 
lowed immediately by the ringing of a big bell on the 
platform and the train jogged ahead, just as the two 


THE PASSPORT 


229 


excited women and the stewardess rushed pell-mell 
down the plank to the landing stage. 

He saw the whole performance from the window of 
his compartment and he divined the truth instantly. 
He was glad the train was moving. As it drew clear 
of the wharf, at a fair rate of speed, he leaned his head 
out of the window and saw three women waving their 
arms wildly at the fast disappearing coaches. 

The contents of the sealed packet proved a revela- 
tion to him. They formed an eloquent if unpleasant 
testimonial to the thoroughness of the German system 
of espionage. There were drawings, on onion-skin pa- 
per, evidently executed by a master hand, of the de- 
fenses of New York, Boston, Charleston and the en- 
trance to Chesapeake Bay. Other maps showed, in as 
great detail, available points along the American At- 
lantic coast, from Penobscot Bay to Tybee Roads, 
where landings of troops might be effected. There was 
one excellent sketch of the eastern point of Long Island, 
with no detail of depth of water, width of channel and 
availability of converging roads omitted. A sheet, 
twenty by twenty-five inches, was filled with closely 
written data, which he found were estimates of the va- 
rious National Guards, regular troops, naval militias, 
police in the coast cities and the exact place where each 
of these bodies was located. 

Apparently no fact was lacking in the information 
conveyed on these wonderfully arranged sheets of onion 
skin paper, the sheets so thin that, while there were a 
dozen and more of them, they made a packet that 
would hardly have required double postage if sent 
through the mails. 

His first objective point in Rotterdam was the office 
of the American Consul-General where, having carefully 


280 


THE PASSPORT 


resealed the packet of maps, he placed it in the con- 
sular safe with the injunction to the American repre- 
sentative not to give it up to anyone except himself, in 
person, under any pretext whatsoever. 

“The only person who may open that parcel is the 
American Minister at The Hague,” he said. “It is 
possible that I may request you, later, to deliver it 
personally to the American Legation.” 

Following the visit to his own Consulate, he pro- 
ceeded to that of Great Britain, where he delivered the 
envelope given him by Sir William, with the request 
that it be forwarded immediately to the British Min- 
ister at the Dutch capital. The conveyance of so im- 
portant a document entailed considerable red tape and 
a receipt was made out in due form, attested by several 
of the consular clerks, and handed over to Warden. 
He had not looked for a receipt but, when he received 
it, an idea occurred to him and he folded it and placed 
it carefully in his pocket. 

The afternoon found him at the picturesque town of 
N3^megen, on the Waal, a tributary of the Rhine, and 
a fraction over six miles from the German frontier. 

A sturdy, kindly-faced man, in civilian uniform, 
proved to be the station master to whom Warden had 
sent his telegram from London. Yes, he had received 
the message and had been enabled to intercept the 
young lad} 7 , who had remained at a local hotel during 
the night although two women who appeared to be 
travelling with her, upon the arrival at Nymegen had 
tried hard to make her continue her journey. Later in 
the day the two women had taken a train westward 
again, apparently greatly disturbed over something. 
They had made inquiries regarding the possible finding, 
in the Nymegen railroad station, of a sealed packet of 


THE PASSPORT 


231 


papers — inheritance papers they had called them. 
Miss Berwin had not accompanied them on the west- 
ward trip but had remained at the hotel. 

Warden was breathless with excitement. He wanted 
to run as fast as he could to the little Hotel Gelderland. 

“Yes — yes !” he said, eagerly, when the station mas- 
ter stopped. 

“Then a telegram came this forenoon,” continued 
the man, “and Miss Berwin at once engaged a motor- 
car to take her across the border.” 

Warden’s heart sank when he was told that Mary 
had, after all, gone into Germany. He thanked the 
station master and slipped the man something for his 
trouble. Then he set about the task of following Mary 
into the enemy’s country. * 

He felt a new and strange weight on his shoulders. 
Heretofore he had dealt with men — with individuals. 
He had been able to identify those against whom his 
efforts were directed, to put each in his proper place, 
measure each by his proportionate strength and im- 
portance. 

Now, all this was changed. 

A rock loomed up on the horizon — the horizon being 
the international line between Prussia and the Nether- 
lands. 

He felt as if he stood apart, not as the giant of 
which he had dreamt but as a small solitary figure op- 
posed to a Gibraltar, bent upon crumbling the great 
rock, single-handed and with nothing to aid him ex- 
cept that knowledge which, of all the billion human 
brains in the world, reposed in his brain only. 

Dutch soldiers stood in groups all about him. These 
were on furlough, on visits to their homes and waiting 
for trains. They eyed him curiously but they were 


232 


THE PASSPORT 


civil, as DutcK soldiers invariably are. He called the 
station master to him again, on a second thought. 

“Those two women who were with Miss Berwin,” he 
said. “They are likely to return here. It will be quite 
unnecessary to give them any information regarding 
me or the inquiries that I have made. You have not, in 
fact, seen me. You understand.” 

The railroad man understood and Warden gave him 
another gold piece, to make the understanding better. 

A motorcar was soon engaged for the journey to 
Cleve, some twelve miles, Warden preferring this mode 
of travel to the frontier train, which would have en- 
tailed unnecessary delays and detentions. 

After a short but speedy run he reached the line. 
Rolling along the fine, smooth road he could see, before 
the car came to the border patrol, the Dutch sentries. 
He was stopped a moment later and his papers de- 
manded. He asked for the officer in charge. When 
that functionary appeared, Warden handed him the 
receipt of the British Consul-General, which gave the 
details of the delivery of a packet, for the British Min- 
ister at The Hague, “ by Richard Warden , Esqre ., from 
the British Foreign Office .” The Dutch officer took 
this to mean that Warden was of the British Foreign 
Office and he raised his eyebrows in wonder, at the 
same time surveying Warden with respectful interest. 

“Surely, you — an Englishman — are not going to 
risk crossing the frontier?” he asked, incredulously. 

“My dear sir, I fully intend to cross it and to get 
some distance be}^ond, too. It is a matter of life and 
death and involves a young woman’s safety. . . . Do 
you happen to know of a Miss Mary Berwin having 
passed your patrol this morning, bound for Germany?” 

“Yes, she passed at about eleven o’clock. Let me 


THE PASSPORT 


233 


see” — the officer consulted his watch — “it is nearly 
five o’clock now. Her papers were all in order. She 
was destined for Cleve, to meet American friends.” 

“Thank you. Now, let me warn you. There will 
be two women coming this way within a few hours — by 
the next train from Rotterdam to arrive at Nymegen, 
following the four o’clock express, probably. I do not 
know their names but the women I have reference to are 
Germans and, furthermore, they are spies. Give no in- 
formation regarding me whatever and, if there is any- 
thing tangible upon which you might be able to hold 
them, I would advise you to detain them until you can 
communicate with your Foreign Office at The Hague. 
Relations between your country and the Prussians are 
in too delicate shape to take chances with Germans who 
cannot give a good account of themselves.” 

“But how will I know the women you desire me to be 
particularly on the watch for?” 

“Telephone to the Nymegen station master. He will 
give you a description of the women if you tell him 
they were the companions of Miss Berwin yesterday.” 

The Dutch officer looked puzzled. 

“Then Miss Berwin is ” he began. 

“Miss Berwin was, without knowing it, in the hands 
of two female German spies,” put in Warden. 

“Very well, sir, and thanks to you,” replied the offi- 
cer, saluting. “I shall attend to this at once” . . . 
Then, to a sentry, “ Passeer mynheer!” And the car 
shot ahead to the Prussian line. 

A one-mile stretch of country had remained a “neu- 
tral zone” by common consent; a half-mile of Dutch 
and a half-mile of Prussian territory. Passing through 
this mile stretch, Warden was relieved, for the first 
time since landing on European soil, to find a complete. 


234 


THE PASSPORT 


absence of anything that might even suggest military 
activity. This temporary “neutral” ground had been 
wisely established by the commanders of the border 
patrols of both countries so as to prevent a clash be- 
tween the opposing forces of frontier guards, the result 
being a strip of European territory so absolutely 
separated from military operations that, unless they 
heard of it from passing civilians, its inhabitants might 
well be believed in ignorance of the fact that such a 
thing as a war was actually being fought on the 
Continent. 

Farmers — Dutch and Prussian — were tilling the soil. 
Flowers bloomed in untrampled beds while immaculate 
farm houses and farms appeared peaceful, without the 
least shade of excitement attending the work of those 
who moved unconcernedly and bucolically about. 

It was like taking one step from the center of the 
world’s busiest metropolis into the solitude of a virgin 
forest. One instinctively drew a long breath, so as to 
absorb as much of this peace-laden air as possible. 
.Warden, with a vague conception that he would need 
all the strength this quiet, soothing atmosphere im- 
parted to his tensioned nerves, inhaled deeply. 

And then he had to brace himself for the first play 
in the game that he had set out to win. 

Fifty yards ahead were the German sentries. In 
another thirty seconds he would be virtually a pris- 
oner in the hands of those who, unless his Yankee nerve 
stood by him, would extend him no quarter. In those 
brief thirty seconds the enormity of the risk he was 
running suddenly dawned upon him. In the unques- 
tionably desperate position he was in, his whole life 
passed with incredible rapidity before him, as it is 
said to pass before a drowning person during the few 


THE PASSPORT 


235 


seconds intervening between Life and DeatK. He re- 
alized the monstrous inequality in the situation. It 
was one where tact and wits would be matched against 
potent rage and ungovernable hatred. It was for him 
to remain outwardly calm and without outward evi- 
dence of fear — no matter how great the storm within 
him or how grave his apprehension. 

He hurriedly tore up the receipt from the British 
Consul-General — a bit of needless crimination he had 
almost overlooked — and threw the pieces over the back 
of the tonneau, just as the motor slowed up. 

“Wo gehen Sie lain ?” 

A German officer, bowing stiffly as he saluted, ap- 
proached the car. Warden saluted in return. At the 
same time he made it plain, in pantomime, that he 
would alight and was desirous of conversing with the 
officer privately. 

“I am on an urgent mission to Cleve,” he said in 
German, after the officer had accompanied him a few 
yards away from the car. “I wish to be escorted im- 
mediately to your commanding officer there. I come 
direct from Von Wenkel, commanding the U-40. My 
business with the Chief of Staff at Cleve is most im- 
perative.” 

“But your papers?” expostulated the German. 

“Such as we” — Warden planted the index finger of 
his right hand in the middle of his chest — “have no pa- 
pers. You can have me escorted to Cleve under guard. 
That lets you out of it, my friend. Only, do not let 
my Holland driver know of my real status. It would 
make future work more difficult . . . over there!” 
He pointed in the direction of the mile of Elysium. 

“I understand,” muttered the officer. He hailed an 
orderly to whom he spoke in a low voice. The orderly 


236 


THE PASSPORT 


disappeared into a nearby dwelling, evidently com- 
mandeered as a frontier post headquarters, and a mo- 
ment later a burly German sergeant came forward, 
saluted, received whispered orders and motioned War- 
den back into the automobile, stepping into the ton- 
neau himself, after his charge. 

There was more flying of arms as the officer, the ser- 
geant and Warden exchanged salutes and the final 
half of the journey to Cleve was begun. It was a very 
quiet ride. Warden and the sergeant did not converse, 
principally because Warden did not fancy the bestial 
expression of his keeper but also because he needed all 
his thoughts for the second play in the game — at Cleve. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Within sight of the Town Hall — converted into an 
army headquarters — they passed Cleve’s principal ho- 
tel. For the first time since leaving the frontier patrol 
he spoke to the sergeant at his side, at the same time 
making a move as if to stop his chauffeur. 

“I should like to make inquiries at the hotel,” he 
said. 

“After we have reported to Colonel von Tiipper,” 
came the gruff rejoinder. “Not now.” 

There was no mistaking the situation. He knew that 
he was no longer a free agent. The feeling was irksome 
and he chafed under it, but he did not allow his com- 
panion to notice his discomfiture. From now on, his 
every movement, he knew, would be under restraint, if 
not worse — until he could get clear of this land, Mary 
with him and his mission accomplished. 

As the car stopped in front of the building a number 
of German officers eyed him with curiosity. The ser- 
geant alighted, saluting those of his superiors whom 
he encountered in the few steps between the curb and 
the door of the headquarters. There was a whispered 
N word to another sergeant. Two privates stepped for- 
ward — rifles shouldered — one in front, the other be- 
hind the automobile. 

While the proceeding might have been misunderstood 
by the lay residents of Cleve, it was not so with the 
military loungers. Here was a stranger, held under 
guard. Conversation stopped between the army men 


238 


THE PASSPORT 


and they waited the outcome of the border patrol ser- 
geant’s report to the Colonel in command at head- 
quarters. 

After a brief wait Warden was summoned from the 
car. He carried his own valise from the tonneau as an 
orderly curtly dismissed the driver. Pie entered the 
gloomy, old-fashioned building that served as the offi- 
cial residence and bureau for the German staff on the 
lower Dutch frontier. 

In the room into which he was ushered he found, 
walking up and down, puffing at a cigarette, a little, 
undersized man, with a pronounced Roman nose, and 
with small, wicked eyes, that gleamed malignantly and 
sneeringly at the visitor. The little man was tailored 
faultlessly, his uniform fitting him as snug as corsets 
on a tightly-laced woman — and there was no doubt in 
Warden’s mind but that corsets formed one of the 
little man’s principal habilaments. 

“This is the man, Colonel,” announced the sergeant, 
saluting. 

“Well, what is this remarkable tale that you have to 
tell?” sneered the stunted militarist. “I am told you 
have no papers. Do you think you are going to get 
by with such a yarn? Out with it, quick. Or it will 
be short shift for you with the next target practice 
party !” 

Colonel von Tiipper spoke in English, in a high- 
pitched, irritating voice. He did not know, evidently, 
that Warden spoke German fluently, and he did not 
inquire. 

“First of all, Colonel,” replied Warden, calmly, ig- 
noring the outburst, “I should like to know whether a 
Miss Mary Berwin has arrived at Cleve.” 


THE PASSPORT 


239 


“You mean Fraiilein Buhrwein? Supposing she did? 
^What is that to you?” 

“Miss Berwin is the daughter of an American citi- 
zen and I am an American also. I should like to com- 
municate with the American Consul and demand pro- 
tection for us both.” 

“If you are an American citizen, why did you enter 
the country under a subterfuge? Why have you no 
papers? Why did you mention the XJ-J^O? What have 
you got to do with the U-40, or with a U-anything- 
else, for that matter?” The little Colonel’s voluntary 
English was evidently to impress his aide and another 
officer who were present in the room. He was, palpa- 
bly, boastful of his linguistic power. He took a rapid 
step forward and planted himself squarely in front of 
his visitor, like a bantam rooster before a Plymouth 
Rock. Puffing energetically at his cigarette, which 
was stuck in a flashy and over-decorated holder, the 
little fellow had a habit of puckering his lips as he 
spoke and continually ejecting either small particles 
of tobacco leaf or saliva. The habit was most un- 
pleasant and Warden had to twist his head about to 
keep from facing the insufferable little man. 

“I have my own reasons for entering your country 
as I did,” he replied. “As for my papers, they were 
lost. I mentioned the U-40 because it is not four days 
since I left Von Wenkel, her commander, who tried to 
sink the Autania , in which attempt he failed. I had 
not intended coming to Germany — this way. It was 
my intention to get to Germany . . . the other way 
. through Belgium. Wflien your two women spies 
got Miss Berwin out of London on a forged letter and 
made her, innocently, the carrier of a packet of Ameri- 


240 


THE PASSPORT 


can plans and other secret information, which Von 
Wenkel was to have received and taken to Wilhelms- 
haven in the U-40, I decided to follow her. Fortu- 
nately, Miss Berwin lost the packet ... on the boat 
coming from Harwich.” 

“How do you know that!” The little German’s at- 
titude changed to one of intense eagerness. 

“Because I found the packet !” 

Von Tupper’s eyes instinctively swept Warden’s fig- 
ure, as if he would look through the clothes and into 
the pockets, like an X-ray. Then his gaze fell on the 
satchel and, from there, to the door, as if he were on 
the point of calling to an orderly to have his visitor 
searched. Warden divined his thoughts. 

“No use having me searched, Colonel,” he said, pleas- 
antly. “At least not for the packet. That is not 
about me. By this time it is in the hands of the Amer- 
ican Minister in The Hague and your two women spies 
are being held somewhere between Rotterdam and the 
frontier.” 

The effect of this announcement on the little officer 
was remarkable. It made him start, lose his temper 
and, because of what he said to his aide, show that he 
was not aware that Warden knew the German language. 

“The American Consul here will never know that you 
got to Cleve !” he almost shrieked in his rage. “I’ll 
have you lined up with the rest in the morning and 
your Yankee carcass will be dissolved in lye for fear it 
might contaminate good Prussian soil.” Then in 
German to his aide, he gave instruction that his sister 
and her companion be located and showed, in other 
ways, his unmistakable anxiety over the safety of the 
two women spies. 

Warden saw his chance and took it. 


THE PASSPORT 


241 


“Pardon me, Colonel,” he said, suavely and in Eng- 
lish, as von Tiipper turned to him again, “both your 
sister and her companion are being held as a sort of 
hostage for the safety of Miss Berwin. I could have 
included myself, except that it would not seem Ameri- 
can ‘Kultur’ for a woman to be held as hostage for a 
man. We prefer to allow you Germans to reserve such 
delicate tactics for yourselves. Besides, I am quite 
able to take care of myself.” 

“What makes you think one of those women is my 
sister, if there really were two such women at all?” de- 
manded von Tiipper. 

“Oh,” smiled back Warden, “while we must admit 
that you Germans are very expert in your spy system, 
you will have to admit, before long, that we Americans 
are not asleep. So I took good care to have your sister 
apprehended as a person too dangerous to be at large.” 

“Pll see about you!” shouted the officer. “Captain 
Aller!” — turning to his aide-de-camp — “take this man 
away and see that he is well guarded. Make sure about 
weapons. Out with him !” 

Captain Aller advanced toward Warden. 

“One moment, please,” said the latter. To von Tiip- 
per he said: “I suppose that you have no objection to 
my taking my satchel with me? It contains my clothes 
and you, I know, can appreciate a gentleman’s desire 
for fresh linen.” 

Like all men of his kind, the little blusterer was vain 
to a degree and this appeal to his immaculate appear- 
ance pleased him. Involuntarily, and for a moment, 
he strutted. “See that there are no weapons in the 
bag!” he ordered, sullenly, to Aller. Then he turned 
his back abruptly upon Warden — which, also, is a 
habit with those of no personal importance in the world 


242 


THE PASSPORT 


but who have been vested with certain temporary au- 
thority. There is a subtle line between importance 
born of authority and authority born of importance 
and the latter classification was assuredly not von Tiip- 
per’s inheritance. He was one of those miserable little 
human jackals who cling to the social body as a fester- 
ing finger clings to an otherwise healthy and normal 
man. 

Warden followed the aide-de-camp to a building in 
the rear of the headquarters, where he was placed in an 
upper room. It was a dismal abode but he welcomed 
the opportunity given him to be by himself, for he could 
now devote some hours to laying his plans for his future 
guidance. 

On the way, Captain Aller, in speaking to a brother 
officer, dropped a few words that showed Warden that 
von Tiipper was, of necessity, tolerated but not held 
in very high esteem by those over whom he had been 
put in authority. 

As Warden was shown into the room that was to 
serve as his prison for the night he turned to the young 
officer and spoke in German, much to the latter’s isur- 
prise.” 

“I am not a spy, as a matter of fact, Captain.” 

“You speak good German, I see. What are you 
here for?” 

“Looking after the safety of an American girl. 
Could you find out for me whether a Miss Berwin . . . 
they know her here as Buhrwein ... is stopping at 
the hotel in Cleve? And if you could, would you let 
her know that Mr. Warden is . . . here ?” 

The aide looked puzzled. He did not answer. 

“Also,” continued Warden, “will you tell me who is 


THE PASSPORT 


243 


the chief of jour staff, above this impossible little cad 
whom I have just had my interview with?” 

Still there was no reply from the young officer. 
Warden braced his shoulders, with a pleasant smile on 
his face. 

“Now, since you have answered all my questions so 
nicely, Captain, would you, perhaps, do this . . . send 
word, unknown to your Colonel here, to your secret in- 
formation bureau, wherever that may be, to the effect 
that Mr. Richard Warden, of New York, chemist, is 
being held a prisoner by Colonel von Tiipper? That it 
would be to the distinct advantage of the Secret Bu- 
reau to have Mr. Warden transferred to General Staff 
headquarters without delay?” 

Captain Aller showed signs of awakening interest. 

“For what purpose, if you please?” he finally asked. 

“Because” — Warden spoke slowly — “I believe Colo- 
nel von Tiipper intends to have me shot in the morning. 
If he does so, it will be a calamity for Germany. I am 
speaking rationally, I assure you, even though you may 
think I am romancing. Besides the unpleasantness for 
myself and my people, who naturally hope to see me 
again, my sudden taking off would mean virtual de- 
struction for your . . . glorious . . . empire. Within 
a month of my death your country would be overrun 
from both the east and the west, your guns made use- 
less, your armies taken prisoner to a man and the most 
impossible penalties and indemnities imposed upon your 
people. I am telling you, very earnestly, that I alone 
can prevent this. It will happen if I am kept more than 
one week from communication with my friends. I cannot 
tell you how I can prevent all this from happening. I 
have declined to tell that to persons much higher in 


244 


THE PASSPORT 


authority than you . . . even my own President ! You 
are not doing anything against your country in send- 
ing this information to your Geheimdienst, You will 
find that they will be anxious to see me. You will be 
doing your country an inestimable service — a service 
that will be remembered gratefully — later. One can 
not talk rationally to that little blow-pipe in whose 
hands I now am. You seem like a real — a sympathetic 
man and, I take it, you might possibly join me in the 
satisfaction there would be in having Colonel von Tiip- 
per’s self-importance taken down a bit, through action 
by your General Staff. There is no time to be lost,” 
he added, as Aller seemed to hesitate, “for word must 
come from your General Staff before daylight. Do 
you not think you had better take the chance? You 
might even forward the information anonymously and 
let it be known later that you took it upon yourself 
to send it.” 

Captain Aller seemed not quite agreed with himself 
as to what course to pursue. 

“I do not know. I will see about it,” he said, as he 
left the room, closing and locking the door as he 
reached the hall. 

A moment later the regular tred of the sentry in 
front of the door told Warden that he was, indeed, a 
prisoner. 

There was little to survey in the room, the lighting 
for which was supplied from an electric fixture in the 
hall, which showed uncertainly through a transom over 
the door. He found a small collapsible cot in the room, 
as well as a chair. In a corner was a metal wash-basin, 
filled with water, but there was no mirror or other fur- 
nishing in evidence, 


THE PASSPORT 


245 


The one window was barred and in the dim light that 
fell on the sill he could see that the bars had not been 
long in place, probably no longer than the time thai 
the building had been taken over as an army headquar- 
ters, at the beginning of the war. Under the window 
he saw another sentry pacing, some twenty-five feet 
removed from the building. 

His watch showed it was just past eight o’clock and 
he sat on the edge of the cot, pondering over the rapidly 
moving events of the last few days. There was no 
thought in his mind, even for a moment, that he would 
not come through this first check without trouble. 

He had infinite Faith, with self-confidence only suffi- 
cient to guide him in what he knew to be Right. Where 
another would have spent the night in planning and 
worrying over what the morrow might bring, he pre- 
pared for a night’s rest, absolutely assured that the 
miserable little man in the other building could not best 
him and that the morrow would see him on the road to 
General Headquarters, ready for the third play in the 
game. 

About two o’clock in the morning he was awakened 
by the unlocking of his door. As he roused himself, 
leaning on his arm, on the cot, he saw Captain Aller 
standing in the doorway. 

“Is there anything you desire?” asked the officer, as 
he moved slowly towards the corner where Warden had 
been asleep. * * 

At first he latter did not understand the reason for 
this midnight anxiety over his welfare. 

“Not that I can see,” he replied. “But why this in- 
quiry at this time of night? It isn’t daylight yet, is 
jtp Or — is it . . .time!” Through his half-conscious- 


246 


THE PASSPORT 


ness, it had suddenly dawned upon him that this might 
be the summons, that Aller’s query was intended to 
afford him the opportunity to express a last wish. 

The Captain motioned him with his hand, reassur- 
ingly. 

“Just thought I would ask you if you wanted any- 
thing,” he repeated, in an ordinary tone. Then, low- 
ering his voice, so that it could not be heard by the 
sentry outside, “I have a message from Miss Berwin 
for you. She will apply to see you at daylight. She 
has told me something about you. I have also sent a 
message to the General Staff. That is why I came in.” 
Then he turned and, resuming his military attitude, 
stalked out of the room again, locking the door. 

The twittering of birds outside his window awakened 
Warden just as day broke. He bathed his face and 
hands and otherwise spruced up as best he could with- 
out the aid of a looking-glass. A soldier brought him 
a little pan full of gruel and some black coffee, without 
either milk or sugar. It was not exactly a palatable 
breakfast, but it was breakfast and he was hungry. 
[When he had finished the modest repast he was once 
more summoned before the Colonel and a few minutes 
later was again facing the little man, who seemed to 
be groomed with more care than ever. 

“We do not sleep as late as you do in America,” said 
von Tiipper, with a horrible little grin. “We begin 
our work early here in Prussia, so that we may be fin- 
ished the sooner.” 

There was an ugly emphasis on the “work,” which 
was not lost upon Warden. He stood quietly waiting 
what this monstrosity in military garb might have to 
say to him. 

“Before we attend to you,” went on von Tiipper, 


THE PASSPORT 


247 


‘there is some small detail to be gone through with. I 
have found out that the packet, that was lost on the 
boat, has been placed in the care of the American Con- 
sul at Rotterdam, to be called for only by you.” He 
grinned as he spoke. “You see, I lost no time in get- 
ting the information I wanted. Now, if you can get 
the Consul at Rotterdam to release that packet to one 
of my men, I will let you go your way. But the packet 
must be in my possession before you go away from 
here.” 

“And how do you expect me to get the packet if I 
do not go for it myself?” quietly asked Warden. 

“You can write a letter to the Consul and Miss Ber- 
win, for instance, could go back to Rotterdam for it.” 

“You know what the packet is supposed to contain?” 

“I do.” 

“And you think that Miss Berwin and I would turn 
traitors to our country, you miserable little man?” 
There was intense indignation in Warden’s voice but 
he tried to control the desire he felt to knock the little 
Colonel to the floor. 

“It will be better for you . . . and for the girl!” 
yelled von Tiipper. 

“So ! Then it is true that you Germans menace wo- 
men in your military operations! Your Ambassador 
in my country has been diligently trying to prove it 
otherwise, ever since the reports of your atrocities 
reached America by cable. It is a fine country, indeed, 
and I compliment you upon that far-famed culture of 
yours !” 

“That will do you!” shouted von Tiipper. “Do I 
get that packet or do I not?” 

“If I have anything to say about it, you do not / 9 
replied Warden calmly. 


248 


THE PASSPORT, 


“Just as you say !” The Colonel consulted his watch. 
“You have exactly one hour in which to make up your 
mind to do what I want you to do or to prepare your- 
self for the wall. You are scheduled for the second 
batch this morning. Being courteous to the fair sex 
always, it is ladies first, with us. The second batch is 
for the men!” And he grinned again, horribly, as he 
motioned to have Warden taken away. 

Warden grew a trifle paler, notwithstanding himself. 

“You don’t mean that the first batch is . . . Miss 
Berwin ...” 

“Oh, no. Eraiilein Buhrwein has done nothing to 
warrant that. She has only lost the packet. You — 
you stole it.” 

Back in his prison room, he stood looking from the 
window to where the sentry paced back and forth. The 
freshness of the morning air, the perfume from the blos- 
soms, all seemed so utterly at variance with the sordid 
things that were transpiring. He began to wonder if, 
after all, he had been wrong in thinking that the Ger- 
man Bureau of Espionage would undoubtedly have been 
apprised of his work in America with the “sedative,” as 
Chief Rankin had nicknamed it. If the Bureau had 
not been so apprised, if his name was not card-indexed 
in that wonderfully complete library of secret infor- 
mation, he had little to hope from von Tiipper, for 
there was no argument possible with that little wretch 
— unless it could lead to something to the man’s own 
advantage. Even then he doubted if one with a bear- 
ing, a face, and, especially, eyes like that could be 
trusted to keep his word. 

It was just six o’clock, and a half-hour had elapsed 
since the daybreak interview. He was turning away 
from the window in order to exercise his limbs, for a 


THE PASSPORT 


249 


walk around the room, when a commotion at the other 
end of the large courtyard attracted his attention. 

A file of soldiers was coming from the building in 
front and, between the double row of armed men, there 
walked — three women. One was elderly, with her grey 
hair dishevelled, the strands laying in disorderly fash- 
ion over her shoulders. Two soldiers were supporting 
her as she swayed from side to side, apparently in the 
last stage of collapse. Every now and then her face 
and her old, withered hands would be raised Heaven- 
ward. The other two were younger, one of them 
hardly grown into womanhood. They were weeping 
hysterically, their slender bodies convulsed with sobs, 
and they, too, were steadied in their march through the 
courtyard by the matter-of-fact soldiers. There was 
none to comfort them. The soldiers were not comfort- 
ing, merely seeing to it that their charges did not fall 
by the way and steadying them only with a prod or a 
rough lift of the arm when occasion seemed to de- 
mand it. 

It needed no announcement to tell Warden what this 
luckless little group represented. It was, without a 
doubt, von Tiipper’s “first batch,” the embodiment of 
his “ladies first” pleasantry of half an hour before. It 
was the beginning of the German military “work” day, 
begun early — so that the workers might finish their 
labors the sooner. There was no priest, no gentle word 
for the last moment before the transition to the Life 
beyond. Undoubtedly, he thought, these women had 
erred, from a military standpoint. They had probably 
spied, or given refuge to spies, or given information to 
the enemy. He could not determine what nationality 
they were. Perhaps they were unfortunate Belgians, 
believing in their right to defend their own and to 


250 


THE PASSPORT 


offend the enemy. Only, their conception as to who 
was the enemy differed with that of the Germans. 
Whatever they were, he pitied them, with all the pity 
that was in his soul. He thought over the schemes 
and plans he had formulated in that room in New 
York, where he could see the twinkling lights across the 
river and how this little procession down there in the 
courtyard underneath his window now formed part of 
that army of viscious red ants that he had come to 
vanquish. 

The soldiers and their prisoners had come to a halt. 
An officer of the guard called them to attention, at the 
same time detaching two of his men to attend to the 
women. First, the hands of the three unfortunates 
were strapped behind their backs. 

Swaying and moaning, the two younger women man- 
aged to retain their foothold while their arms were 
being pinioned. The older one sank in a heap to the 
ground. 

Then all three were blindfolded, the two younger 
women being led to the wall of the courtyard and placed, 
side by side, with their backs to the bricks. 

The older woman could not stay on her feet. It 
looked to Warden as if she had swooned. They dragged 
her poor body to the wall and propped it up alongside 
of the two girls, whose knees were bending forward 
more and more, under the strain of their mental 
torture. 

It suddenly dawned upon him that these three women 
were to be executed under his very eyes. The two sol- 
diers who had bound and blindfolded the women re- 
sumed their places in the squad, which was now ar- 
ranged into a single line, facing the three against the 
wall. 


THE PASSPORT 


251 


The officer gave an order. Warden could not catch 
the word, but from the movement of the men he knew 
it said : 

“Ready !” 

Quick as a flash, Warden reached for his satchel, 
which was at his side on the floor, open. 

He dug his hand into a side flap. He was at the 
window again, his right arm held back, like a ball- 
pitcher’s. And then .... 

“ Legt an!” came from the officer of the guard, quite 
distinctly. 

Twelve rifles were levelled, awaiting the next word. 

Crash! A bit of glass burst against the brick wall 
over the heads of the three blindfolded figures under 
its shadow. 

Warden closed his window just as the glass struck. 
He saw the two young women at the wall sink down 
beside the older prisoner and thirteen men in uniform 
stretched flat and motionless upon the ground. 

He walked slowly from the window to his cot, and 
there, on his knees, he buried his face in his hands and 
silently poured out his gratitude to his Maker. 

Presently going back to the window, he saw von 
Tiipper, attended by several officers, towering head and 
shoulders above their diminutive commander, enter the 
courtyard. Yon Tiipper, probably attracted to the 
court when he failed to hear the volley fired, walked 
rapidly — almost ran — to the spot where the firing 
squad and the women were lying prostrate. 

There was amazement on his face, as there was on 
the faces of the other officers ; on all except, perhaps, 
that of one, Captain Aller, 


252 


THE PASSPORT 


Aller appeared serious and, involuntarily, looked up 
towards the window of Warden’s prison room. 

The desire to finish the work that the firing squad 
had set out to do and failed seemed not to have entered 
the head of von Tiipper. Warden could see the little 
Colonel give orders to have the prisoners, as well as the 
unconscious soldiers, removed to a nearby building. 
Then followed a conference between the officers which, 
from the gestures of the men, showed that they could 
not understand what had happened. At least, von 
Tiipper and his staff walked back slowly and thought- 
fully to his headquarters and the courtyard once more 
took on its peaceful, springtime aspect. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Heavy footsteps in the hall, followed by the opening 
of his door, brought him out of the reverie into which 
he had fallen. 

A soldier announced that he was to appear again 
before Colonel von Tiipper. 

The little commander was smoking his cigarette and 
strutting about his room when Warden came before 
him for the third time, and did not betray any of the 
excitement through which he had gone a short while 
before, when he had found his women-killers hors de 
combat. 

“Well?” he snarled, in his unpleasant, high-pitched 
voice, as he stopped in his parading. “Have you made 
up your mind?” 

“I have not changed it,” calmly replied Warden. 

“Your turn is next, then!” exclaimed the little man, 
livid with sudden anger and throwing his cigarette 
out of the window. 

“Next, you say?” Warden spoke in deliberate, meas- 
ured tones. “I did not notice anyone being seriously 
hurt at the first turn.” 

“I’ll see to it that nothing happens when yours 
comes, you dirty Yankee!” retorted the other, now 
quite beside himself with rage. 

“Do you wish to know how it happened . . . just 
now . . . Colonel?” 

“What do you know about what happened?” yelled 
von Tiipper. “Keep your mouth shut or”— he made a 


254 


THE PASSPORT, 


move as if to draw the sabre that hung at his side — - 
“I’ll slash it shut !” 

“It was I who prevented the murder of those three 
women,” slowly spoke Warden, looking straight at von 
Tiipper. 

“By God ! you’ve said enough. I’ll . . . 

“And within three weeks at the most all your armies 
will lie prostrate like that firing squad of yours, with 
the Russians, the French, the English and, may God 
bless them, the Belgians, gathering up the bodies of 
German thousands, invading every portion of your 
murder-cursed empire and forever putting your blood- 
thirsty military crew where ” 

Von Tiipper had held on to the table in the center of 
the room for support, gazing, as one palsied, at the 
straight and earnest-faced American. 

He swayed forward as Warden spoke and seemed on 
the point of controlling his throat for another tirade 
when Captain Aller entered the room hurriedly, with a 
message for his superior. 

“A telegram from the Geheimdienst y Colonel,” he 
said, saluting and holding the paper in front of von 
Tiipper, at the same time glancing quickfy and signifi- 
cantly at Warden. 

The Colonel did not take his gaze off the Ameri- 
can. His mouth moved slowly as he said, still with his 
leering, brownish eyes held steadily to their original 
focus : 

“What does it say?” For the moment he seemed to 
forget that he was ordering his aid to repeat, aloud, a 
message from the German Secret Information Bureau, 
in the presence of a stranger. 

“Mr. Warden is to be sent immediately to the head- 
quarters of the Field Staff at Endheim,” said Captain 


THE PASSPORT 255 

Aller. “General von der Hulze desires to see him with- 
out delay.” 

“Von der Hulze !” repeated von Tiipper slowly, still 
gazing as if fascinated at Warden. “What . . . does 
. . . he . . . want . . . with . . . him?” As he ut- 
tered the last word the spell he was under seemed to 
break. The “him” was said with all the contempt that 
the little officer could put into his fantastic voice and 
he hastily snatched the telegram from Captain Aller’s 
hand. 

“Let me see it !” he gnashed between his set teeth. 
“Damn them !” — he scanned the message with an ex- 
pression on his face that plainly spoke the rage that 
was eating at his heart — “every courtesy, indeed ! Go 
ahead! Take him! . . . What is the use of com- 
manding a post, anyway, when every dummkopf can 
override one’s orders !” 

“It’s the General, Colonel,” expostulated Captain 
Aller, to whom the belittling of a general in command 
was nothing short of sacrilege. 

“Damn the General! Damn them all!” shrieked the 
now thoroughly blinded von Tiipper. “Take this 
damned Yankee away before I kill him with my own 
hands, General or no General !” 

He threw the telegram, all crumpled up, at the feet 
of the astonished Aller, who quietly signalled to War- 
den to follow him and led the way out of the Colonel’s 
room. 

Once in the hall, the Captain turned to Warden. 
“Miss Berwin did not exaggerate,” he said, with awe 
clearly written on his pleasant, almost boyish face. “It 
is truly wonderful what you did in the courtyard, and 
I am glad I sent the message to the Geheimdienst” 
Then, as they walked through the corridors to the 


256 


THE PASSPORT 


other building, where Warden had been confined during 
the night. “And Germany will be able to use this means 
upon her enemies?” 

Warden did not seem to hear the question. 

He turned his head suddenly to the young Captain. 

“What were those women to die for?” he asked. 

“They were Frau Schultz and her daughters, Frieda 
and Minna. Frau Schultz’s son, Hans, is in New York, 
where he works in a restaurant or something of the 
sort. It seems that the mother and her daughters were 
afraid Hans would try to get back to Germany to join 
the colors. She has already lost three sons and she 
wrote Hans to remain in America so that she would 
have one son left for her old age. It was very pathetic, 
her letter. Frieda and Minna also wrote to their 
brother, urging him to remain where he was. The let- 
ters were, of course, opened by the secret readers in 
the Post Office. They read all letters that go out, and 
so Frau Schultz and her daughters were arrested on 
the charge of conspiring to keep a reservist from join- 
ing the colors, and von Tiipper ordered them shot as 
an example to other families. It seems a trifle harsh 
and I am glad that something interfered. I hope they 
will go free now. After all, it was only the love of a 
mother for her remaining son that prompted the letter- 
writing. And she had already given up three for the 
Fatherland.” 

“Heaven watch over that poor mother!” exclaimed 
Warden, fervently. 

“And now, please tell me,” urged Aller, “does Ger- 
many get that wonderful means to crush her enemies 
from you?” 

“Not if I can prevent it !” Warden exclaimed, warmly. 
“With such brutal murder going on as you have just 


THE PASSPORT 


! 257 ' 

described to me, do you think I would put; a greater 
power into the hands of your country? At the same 
time” — as he saw Captain Aller’s face become white and 
drawn — “I can be the means of preventing your ene- 
mies from using it indiscriminately. My dear fellow” — 
he laid his hand almost affectionately on the young 
officer’s shoulder — “men such as von Tiipper are the 
ones that make the world go wrong. They make it go 
wrong for their immediate subordinates as well as for 
those who are thrown in contact with them — except’ 
those from whom such a cad as von Tiipper gets his 
favors. In the latter case, your von Tiipper becomes a 
cavalier e servente y licking the hand of him he is afraid 
to abuse, a flunky and a parasite. If every German 
were as manly as you are, had as much of the milk of 
human kindness in his soul as you have, were as open 
to argument as you are and as ready to help a fellow- 
man, well, then there would not now be a war !” 

It did not take him long to get his effects together. 
Then he asked to be taken to the hotel where Mary 
Berwin was stopping. Captain Aller Had arranged 
for a military motorcar for the journey to Endheim, 
as soon as he had received the telegram and before he 
had shown it to von Tiipper. When it arrived he cour- 
teously offered to accompany Warden as far as the 
hotel. 

On a balcony overlooking the principal square in the 
town, charmingly attired in a white suit, a soft, broad- 
rimmed straw hat trimmed with wild flowers, that added 
their quota of freshness to the blossoms on an over- 
hanging vine, Mary held her morning vigil. She had 
been thoughtfully notified by Captain Aller that the 
necessity for calling on Warden in the headquarters 
prison had passed. 


258 


THE PASSPORT 


She was overjoyed when the military automobile 
drew up below at the curb and, after waving a greeting 
before the car stopped, she was downstairs, in the typi- 
cally German reception parlor of the hostelry, almost 
at the same time as the man for whom she had made the 
hurried journey from London. 

“Dick !” There was a world of tender happiness ex- 
pressed in that one word. 

“My girl, my brave little girl!” 

Both were anxious to recount their experiences since 
they had last seen each other at the Savoy, but there 
was hardly time for extended explanations. The purr- 
ing of the motor’s engine reminded Warden that he 
could not long delay his trip to Endheim, that he was 
a prisoner and was being taken inland under orders. 
He did not relish the idea of leaving Mary alone in 
Cleve, now that he had found her. Then a thought 
struck him. 

“Captain Aller!” 

The young aide-de-camp came from the car and 
joined them on the hotel porch. Mary, having met him 
unofficially twice before, greeted him cordially. 

“Miss Berwin is free to go where she pleases, is she 
not?” asked Warden. 

“I have heard no orders to the contrary,” Captain 
Aller replied, bowing to Mary. “She would need local 
permits for travel, that is all.” 

“Then I should like to have Miss Berwin accompany 
me to Endheim, if that were possible,” explained 
Warden. 

“Miss Berwin would be at liberty to travel to End- 
heim, in the regular way, by train,” suggested Aller. 
“I am afraid that I could not authorize her to go in 
the automobile. That would require an order from 


259 


THE PASSPORT 

Colonel von Tiipper and ... if I were you ... I 
would not broach the subject to the Colonel. It might 
be better to have Miss Berwin remain quietly here. 
Cleve is far removed from the hostilities. It is safer 
here.” 

“But I do not want to stay here !” protested Mary. 
“That little Colonel of yours is a very unpleasant man. 
He has been positively annoying.” 

“Then go back into Holland,” suggested Warden. 

“That,” interrupted Captain Aller, “would also ne- 
cessitate a special permit from the Colonel. It would 
be leaving the country and Fraiilein’s passport would 
have to be countersigned by him.” 

It was finally decided that she should remain at the 
Hotel Cleve until after Warden had had his interview 
with the Chief of Staff at Endheim. Warden felt cer- 
tain that, after that interview, Mary’s departure from 
Cleve would not be interfered with. Captain Aller also 
gallantly volunteered to keep a watchful eye on the 
young woman and not lose track of her while she re- 
mained alone at Cleve. 

Two concentration camps for prisoners and a train- 
load of wounded Germans were the three vivid remind- 
ers he had, en route, that war was being waged. For 
the rest, an almost total absence of able-bodied men 
on the farms and highways formed passive proof of the 
complete militarization of a hitherto peaceful agricul- 
tural community. 

Nearing the end of his journey, he could take no 
further note of the country, for he was then blind- 
folded, and when he was able to use his eyes again it 
was to see a large, powerfully built man, in full uni- 
form, sitting at a table at one end of a richly furnished 
chamber, in what appeared to be either a chateau or a 


260 


THE PASSPORT 


large villa. There was every evidence of comfort and 
luxury about and sleek-looking German staff officers 
sat in beautifully upholstered chairs, their spurred 
boots resting on tiger, bear and boar skins, which cov- 
ered a smooth, polished floor. 

The big man at the table looked at a paper he held 
before him. 

“Mr. Richard Warden?” came finally in a pleasant 
though severe voice. 

“That is my name, General.” 

“You came to Germany because ” 

“I desired to prevent a young American woman 
being decoyed into Germany by two of your espionage 
corps.” 

“What makes you think they were that?” 

“I have evidence of it.” 

“And you came without papers?” 

“My papers were lost and I did not wish to lose any 
time.” 

“You were born in Artierica?” 

“I was.” 

“And your father and mother?” 

“My father and several generations before him, in 
America ; my mother in Holland.” 

“What is your profession?” 

“I have studied chemistry and ■” 

“A-ah!” 

“And I mean to follow that as my profession.” 

The General turned to say something to an aide. 
Then, turning back to Warden: 

“You know, of course, that you have made your- 
self liable to a severe penalty? In fact, the severest 
penalty ... in time of war?” 

“Under ordinary circumstances, perhaps, but not in 


THE PASSPORT 


261 


this instance,” Warden replied, amiably. “You have 
not sent for me for that reason, have you?” 

The big man eyed him curiously for a moment. 

“I have sent for you because we have certain informa- 
tion in connection with your visit at this particular 
time. We learned that you intended going to the Con- 
tinent by way of Calais and we preferred to have you 
come by way of Holland. We knew you would change 
your plans and follow the young lady, but our plans 
were slightly disarranged through the unfortunate and 
stupid procedure at Cleve. I must really apologize to 
you for your unpleasant experience there. You suf- 
fered no serious inconvenience?” 

“None, unless you consider being sentenced to death 
an inconvenience,” Warden replied, with a smile. “I 
am afraid the inconvenience was all on the side of 
Colonel von Tiipper.” 

“You have made some discovery or invention, have 
you not, Mr. Warden?” 

“I did make a more or less important discovery.” 

“And it was in connection with this discovery that 
you came to Europe, was it not?” 

Warden nodded his head. “Generally speaking, yes,” 
he said. 

“It has something to do with overcoming large bodies 
of men, making them incapable of resistance, has it 
not?” pursued the General. 

“By the way, General,” Warden interrupted, his face 
suddenly alert. “Before we go any further, I would ask 
a favor. The shooting of three women, a mother and 
her two daughters, was prevented this morning in the 
nick of time. I cannot believe it is your way to stand 
women against a wall and kill them like dogs, even if 
it is the way of Colonel von Tiipper. Especially does 


262 


THE PASSPORT 


it seem incomprehensible to me since the woman is one 
of your own people, who had already given three sons 
to her country and tried to save the fourth for herself. 
Will you please send a message to Colonel von Tiipper, 
staying the execution of women until their cases can 
be reviewed by someone higher in authority than he? 
I am afraid Colonel von Tiipper is lacking in scruples 
in the matter of killing people. Do this first, please, 
and then we can continue our talk . . . about my dis- 
covery.” 

Von der Hulze looked undecided for an instant, but 
he wrote something on an official slip, which he handed 
to one of his officers, who saluted and immediately hur- 
ried from the room. 

“The case shall be looked into,” he said slowly. “Now 
tell me about your presence in Europe.” 

“I can tell you very little,” Warden began, “except 
that it will be to Germany’s interest to detain me as 
little as possible. The present strained relations be- 
tween my country and yours does not create any desire 
in me to stay here !” 

“But you are here!” The General brought a huge 
fist down on the solid mahogany, with a bang. “Your 
self-assurance, Mr. Warden, does not become a man 
in your position. Suppose we decide to keep you here? 
What would you have to say to that?” 

“Nothing whatever, General.” 

“You would accomplish nothing then, would you?” 

“Personally, no. But, unless I am in communication 
with my friends within the next forty-eight hours, 
General, there will come over your country a greater 
* destruction, even, than you have caused to be spread 
over Belgium. I am not boasting. God has permitted 


THE PASSPORT 


268 


me to use my brains for the relief of my fellow-men. 
Do not think for a moment that I have not provided 
for an emergency, either in case of my death, suddenly, 
or my detention — here, for instance. You know, as I 
know, that there is a difference between dealing with 
the Russians and dealing with the French and the Brit- / 
ish. The latter two peoples would not destroy your 
cities and your countrysides as you have destroyed 
theirs. On the other hand, the Cossacks would not be 
so careful or so choice in their behavior. For my part, 

I have nothing to do with the Russians. I admire the 
Russian nation for but one thing, but that is neither 
here nor there. As long as I control that which I 
alone have discovered, the Russians shall not be allowed 
to avail themselves of it. If the British and the French 
have the benefit of the secret knowledge I have, they 
shall use it with the utmost discrimination, I assure 
you. But if anything happens to me while I am in 
German hands the knowledge that I now possess ex- 
clusively will, automatically through my silence, be 
given into the hands of the Russians as well as your 
other enemies. I assure you, with all the earnestness I 
can possibly put into my words, that your country, in 
that event, will be overrun by the Slavs, even though 
the French and British should go no further than the 
Rhine. You had better get me out of your hands as 
quickly as you can, General. I am worth much more to 
you out of Germany than in Germany.” 

Yon der Hulze had remained immovable during War- 
den’s vivid portrayal of Germany’s possible devasta- 
tion. He appeared not quite able to make out the 
young American’s status. 

Some moments elapsed after Warden had finished be- 


264 


THE PASSPORT 


fore the General spoke. He sat there, drumming his 
fingers and compressing his lips, as if he were arguing 
with himself over a knotty problem. 

Finally, clearing his throat, he said: 

“I shall talk with you again later.” Then he con- 
versed in a low tone with another officer who, after sa- 
luting, approached Warden and requested him to follow. 

The room to which Warden was shown, on the floor 
above, was arranged as luxuriously as the one he had 
just left. There was every requisite of comfort that 
wealth could put within four walls. In a mammoth 
bookcase he found a collection of volumes, in rich bind- 
ings mostly and of a wide literary scale. He selected 
a volume of Heinrich Heine’s poems and laid down on 
an exquisite lounge, in an effort to compose his thoughts. 

When dusk set in and he could read no longer, with- 
out artificial light, he became aware that the air had 
grown chilly. As the open fire-place contained logs 
and small wood underneath, ready for lighting, he 
struck a match and soon the room was flooded with 
fantastic shadows as the logs slowly blazed up. He 
drew a huge, old-fashioned chair to the fire and threw 
himself into it. In the glow of the logs he studied the 
situation. He thanked God again that he had been 
permitted to save the lives of that mother and her two 
daughters, in Cleve that same morning. He knew that 
his own mother was looking down upon him from 
Heaven, from that Home of Everlasting Life where 
tired mothers, weary no longer, look down upon that 
which they have builded, guiding, as stars, those whom 
they have left behind. 

Then, reverting to those matters that were imme- 
diately vital to the safety of so many countless thous- 
ands, he went over in his mind his interview with the 


THE PASSPORT 


265 


Chief of Staff. Von der Hulze, he firmly believed, was 
open to argument. Thanks to the effectiveness of the 
German Information Bureau in New York, enough had 
trickled through to the General Staff to afford him an 
effective weapon of defense in the absence of any direct 
knowledge the General Staff had of what he really was 
about. His next move would be to have Von der Hulze 
give Mary a safe conduct over the Dutch border and 
then, if he could get out of Germany and into France, 
the rest would be easy. Von der Hulze had doubtless 
been advised of what had occurred in the court-yard 
at Cleve, which would strengthen his position with the 
General. 

So far, he had held his own and he was confident that 
he would hold his own to the end. 

A servant brought up a tray, upon which there was 
an excellent dinner, complete even to the bottle of fine 
old Rudesheimer, a liqueur and cigars. He drank a glass 
of the wine, which proved a refreshing stimulant and 
after doing ample justice to the contents of the official 
dinner tray, he lit a cigar and resumed his study of the 
blazing logs. 

For two hours he sat this way, enjoying a quiet 
broken only by the occasional sound on the hardwood 
floor in the room below as an officer, moving about, 
stepped between the rugs. Subdued voices reached 
him from time to time. The cheerful fire in the hearth 
held him fascinated. One tongue of blue flame seemed 
more persistent than all the others that sputtered from 
little crevices in the now half-charred logs. The 
smaller ones played hide and seek with the big flame. 
Presently, they assumed different shapes and human 
forms, in brilliant accoutrements, climbed over the hill 
formed by the pile of logs. The fireplace became a 


266 


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wide plain and the brilliant shapes became more nu- 
merous. . . . Pie heard the crackling of many shots 
... It seemed like an avalanche of human shapes now 
. . . slashing, crunching their way over the glowing 
field. He was at the other end of the space . . . 
awaiting the onslaught. Then he saw something 
hurled from a great, towering gun . . . As it reached 
those crowding over the lighted field, there came a quiet 
. . . the great light gradually faded . . . He started 
forward in exultation . . . The blue flame gave one, 
last, nervous leap upward and the log showed only a 
dull after-glow, while a faint, charring snap came from 
the crevice into which it had disappeared. 

A hand was laid on his shoulder. 

He started and looked up, to see a middle-aged Ger- 
man officer standing beside the chair. 

“You are to accompany General von der Hulze, at 
once,” said the German. 


CHAPTER XIX 


Where he was going or for what purpose was as a 
closed book to Warden. All that he knew was that he 
was being escorted through the great, old-fashioned 
halls to a side entrance of the building where, under a 
magnificent porte-cochere, stood a big touring car, in 
the inevitable battle-grey, with engine going. There 
were, also, several German officers, apparently of higher 
rank, military capes thrown over their shoulders, for 
the night had grown chilly. 

The officer who had brought him downstairs offered 
him a heavy bearskin coat, which he gratefully ac- 
cepted, for it was plain that there was to be a night- 
ride in the automobile and his clothes were not con- 
ducive to comfort while motoring. An elaborate porch 
fixture threw a subdued light on the scene. It might 
have been the carriage entrance to the opera house in 
Berlin, except for the service uniforms. 

Five persons could be comfortably accommodated in 
the tonneau of the car, which was unoccupied when he 
came downstairs, with the chauffeur standing rigidly 
by the side of the cylinder box. There was a wait of 
a few moments, during which the Germans conversed 
among themselves, all except the one who had escorted 
Warden. He maintained a careful but unobtrusive 
watch over the American, standing a few feet away 
from the rest. 

Then there came a stir from within the house. Pres- 
ently the doors were swung open. Out from between 


268 


THE PASSPORT 


rows of officers in the hall, Warden saw General von 
der Hulze march with long strides toward the door and 
out upon the carriage step. 

| Everybody came to attention and saluted the Gen- 
eral as he stepped rapidly to the car. He swung him- 
self easily into a rear seat, to be followed by two offi- 
cers. W ar den was assigned to one of the pivoted seats 
in the tonneau, the officer who had brought him from 
his comfortable reverie by the log-fire, taking the other 
adjustable seat. An orderly jumped into the front 
seat after the chauffeur and the big car shot ahead 
and dashed into the impenetrable darkness, relieved 
only by the immense lightbeams from the reflectors in 
front which, illuminating the roadway, made the gloom 
overhead all the more intense. 

They rode on this way for several hours. Occasion- 
ally the low gutturals of the Germans in the seat be- 
hind him kept up a grumbling accompaniment to the 
whir of the motor but it was a conversation of which 
he could, at no time, catch the drift. He tried to spec- 
ulate as to the objective of this night ride. Neither a 
process of deduction nor of reasoning brought him 
any nearer to a possible solution of the mystery. 

That the General Commanding should, himself, be of 
the party, was the most mystifying part of it all. 
Nothing was encountered on the way, so Warden de- 
cided to his own satisfaction that they were not travel- 
ing along the military highways. Once in a while a 
light blinked in a nearby house or farm building; ex- 
cept for that, there was not a sign or sound to guide 
him in his guess either as to their location or desti- 
nation. 

The car had been running upgrade for a mile or two 
when, coming to the crest of a hill, von der Hulze leaned 


THE PASSPORT 


269 


forward and whispered to the officer sitting next to 
Warden. Warden, feeling the touch of the leaning 
figure, thought it was his attention that was being at- 
tracted and he turned, just as his companion reached 
over and began the adjustment of a blindfold over his 
forehead. Not, however, until he had seen what lay 

before him innumerable little red-glows in the valley 

between the crest upon which they were at the time 
and the range of hills some ten miles or more distant. 
The glows were camp-fires, of course, for he saw tiny 
figures, like insects standing on end, moving about 
among the hundreds of dully-lighted spots. 

He knew at once what he was looking down upon — a 
huge army, bivouacked for the night. It was probably 
because it would not do for a stranger to see the road 
leading to it as well as the topography of the surround- 
ing country, that he was being blindfolded. 

While he lost all sense of direction, he felt the auto- 
mobile making sharp turns, upgrade here, downgrade 
there, then a level stretch and then another sharp turn. 
The orderly was blowing a peculiar whistle, evidently 
a signal, and at no time since coming over the crest did 
the chauffeur lower his speed. 

It seemed to Warden as if they were fairly flying 
over the smooth road, until the brakes were suddenly 
applied — so suddenly that he thought it was an emer- 
gency stop — and then he was helped out of the car 
and, as he jumped down, the blindfold was loosened and 
crept upward so that he could see from underneath the 
cloth. In the darkness none of the others noticed this. 

It was an open space where they had stopped and all 
except von der Hulze had alighted. 

The chauffeur was manipulating a searchlight at- 
tached to the front of the automobile and soon it sent 


270 


THE PASSPORT 


a shaft of grey -blue light straight to the sky, in which 
position it remained stationary. 

They were apparently on the outskirts of the camp. 
Near him he saw an improvised hostlers’ barracks and 
cooks, with their white aprons, preparing the meal for 
the next morning in the camp kitchens. 

There was the usual noise about these preparations 
and every now and then some disengaged kitchen-work- 
ers and horse-tenders strolled over to within a respectful 
distance of the grey car and looked curiously at it and 
the group of caped officers standing near. These loung- 
ers would hold whispered debates as to the significance 
of the visit and speculate as to the identity of the mid- 
night visitors. Then they would go back to their la- 
bors, to be replaced by other loungers, to whom the 
grey car, with its great shaft of light pointed Heaven- 
ward, was as gratifying a basis for conjecture and 
camp gossip as it had been for their mates. 

A whirling noise, coming from no particular direc- 
tion, caused all to strain their eyes through the dark- 
ness to find its origin. 

Suddenly another shaft of light, piercing the gloom 
from a height which Warden estimated to be not over 
one hundred feet from the ground, threw itself diagon- 
ally across the stationary vertical ray from the auto- 
mobile. Three times it crossed the motor’s searchlight, 
as if bent upon cutting it in pieces. 

There was instant commotion among the officers 
standing about the car and the orderly leaped forward 
to hold the tonneau’s door as General von der Hulze 
hastily alighted from the machine. 

Within a dozen yards of where they were standing, 
a huge aeroplane landed silently and easily upon the 
ground. Attached to one of the plane braces Warden 


THE PASSPORT 


271 


saw the Imperial Standard of Germany, with its grim 
Black Eagle. 

The aircraft had hardly touched the earth before a 
short, fat man stepped from behind the aviator. 

A bristling mustache and a brusque pomposity, that 
at once irritated and depressed, were his chief distin- 
guishing features. 

The helmets of von der Hulze and the other German 
officers came off with a quick sweep as the newcomer 
moved toward them, much like a vulture. Warden 
noted that the man had a withered left arm, as if Na- 
ture, realizing that in him she had a soul of unrest and 
aggression, had crippled him, like a viscious bird lack- 
ing a vital portion of its wing. 

The scene about the automobile was instantly trans- 
formed as the air- visitor came upon it. Not a sound 
came from the kitchens or the hostlers’ barracks, not 
a figure could be seen moving anywhere, except the 
group in the center of the open space. Everything 
was instant quiet and order in the camp. 

For some moments he had undisturbed opportunity 
to observe the newcomer. 

A grey cape covered the form to well below the knees. 
Once, when one of the flaps was thrown back, he saw 
the decorations on the breast ; aside from this there was 
nothing military about the man except the cloth-covered 
helmet. He looked like a well-fed, prosperous business 
man, one of the thousands that can be seen on the 
streets of New York every day but whose physique 
would never attract attention. To Warden, he bore 
a striking resemblance to a delicatessen dealer whom 
he knew, as well as to his favorite barber during his 
college days. Yon der Hulze seemed, to him, more 
military, more commanding in appearance. 


272 


THE PASSPORT 


One might take von der Hulze for an Emperor or el 
Kaiser but the fat little man who had just finished a 
journey in the aeroplane never. 

His mental note-taking on these points was inter- 
rupted by one of the German officers who, bowing and 
saluting, had backed away from the group near the au- 
tomobile and was trying desperately to pilot his way 
backwards to where Warden had been left standing, 
without turning his face away from the august pres- 
ence in the center of the little circle of officers. 

“His Imperial Majesty has ordered that you be 
brought before him,” breathed the bowing and scrap- 
ing official, as he finally managed to maneuvre beside 
Warden, without having once diverted his face from 
the group he had left. 

Warden looked hard at the Imperial messenger. 

So here, then, was the solution! Richard Warden 
third, obscure American college graduate, experimenter 
in chemistry, advocate of Peace, Justice and Humanity, 
sent for by Wilhelm Hohenzollern II, German Emperor, 
absolute lord of millions of human beings and advocate 
of War, Injustice and Barbarity! 

Of course, anything might be expected during such 
an expedition as he had undertaken — yes, even this ! 

Nevertheless, he found himself swallowing hard for 
a moment, as he turned to follow the obsequious officer 
to where the Master of the Human Hounds was being 
fawned upon by those of his General Staff. 

A wave of the right hand sent all, including von der 
Hulze, melting away into the dark shadows, like wheat 
under a strong wind. 

Standing alone before the man at the mention of 
whose name millions grunted “Hoch!” and other mil- 
lions groaned in anguish, Warden felt no particular 


THE PASSPORT 


273 


sensation of awe. The extreme plebeian appearance of 
the Emperor dispelled what might otherwise have been 
the fearsomeness of the situation. Remove a mighty 
monarch from the environment of his glittering court, 
his gold-laced suite, resplendent uniforms or the im- 
pressive military ensemble with which he surrounds 
himself and he becomes common-place, even though his 
figure may be a commanding one. In the case of Wil- 
helm it was worse than common-place. He appeared, to 
Warden, quite ordinary. 

There were no preliminaries. The Emperor gazed at 
the American in what Warden thought was an ex- 
tremely impertinent manner — “sizing him up,” as it 
were. It was, in all probability, a new sensation to 
the monarch to have one of the common herd approach 
him as the young American had done, with a raising of 
his cap and then replacing it again! Such a thing was 
unheard of in Germany. Still, it was not for a monarch 
to remonstrate with a menial and, as there was no 
court officer, no court chamberlain, no gentleman-in- 
waiting and no other Imperial Court barnacle about, 
what could a monarch do but suffer in silence under 
the sting of such a wanton affront. 

To Warden, the situation was equally incongruous. 
Here he was standing before a man who, he perfectly 
well knew, expected him to bend his knee and crave a 
pardon for every syllable he uttered. Yet any majesty 
that might have clung to an Imperial host, out of his 
element, did not cling to Wilhelm of Hohenzollern. It 
did not even appear to cling to Wilhelm when in his ele- 
ment, surrounded by all his gorgeous staff ; to Warden, 
Majesty could not, like Charity, cover a multitude of 
sins. He had loved his mother. Wilhelm had cursed 
and reviled her who had brought him into the world, 


274 


THE PASSPORT 


for allowing her own life to be saved at the expense of 
a withered arm for her son. Wilhelm had virtually 
imprisoned his mother, when he ascended the throne 
and had, otherwise, shown the brute in him by his un- 
filial acts that no human soul should have been guilty 
of. Where he had honored and respected his friends, 
Wilhelm of Hohenzollern had dishonored and repud- 
iated those who had stood by him and his empire. 
Where he represented the lofty American ideals of jus- 
tice and right, Wilhelm represented the quintessence of 
injustice and ruthless might. 

Then who should bend the knee ? 

He certainly would not. 

The Emperor’s voice was not pleasant, when he 
finally spoke, in faultless English. His first words were : 

“What is the meaning of all this?” 

“Your Excellency ...” began Warden. 

“When you address an Emperor you address His 
Majesty, my man!” was the severe reproof, as the 
German War Lord drew himself up haughtily. 

“I had a talk with the President of the United States 
not long ago,” pursued Warden, ignoring the correc- 
tion. “And I addressed him as His Excellency. It is 
a title that is considered fit for the President of a Re- 
public. The only Majesty we Americans know is the 
Law, which represents Justice. True, it misrepresents 
it sometimes, but it still remains the Majesty of the 
Law.” 

“But I am not interested in all this. What I desire 
to know is why you are here, at this particular time.” 
The Emperor seemed irritated and impatient. 

“I was brought here under guard, by one of your 
Generals.” 


THE PASSPORT 


275 


“Yes, yes, I know. But why are you in Germany 
at all?” 

“I am here, Sir, because I am interested in an Amer- 
ican girl, who was inveigled into your country by two 
of your women spies,” replied Warden, after a slight 
pause. “I am not here for any other reason and I 
shall be glad to leave again, if your officers will allow 
me to escort the young lady in question out of the 
country.” 

“I am not interested in those matters, either,” ex- 
claimed the Emperor, petulantly. “I have generals 
who attend to these minor affairs. I came here be- 
cause I wanted to see the man who is supposed to have 
made a certain discovery, which I desire to investigate.” 
He again allowed his gaze to sweep Warden from head 
to foot. “ You are not the man they speak of, are 
you ?” 

There was implied incredulity in the question. 

“I believe I am,” replied Warden, very quietly. 

“You discovered a gas or fume?” 

“I made a discovery that, I believe, is troubling some 
of your staff.” 

“Well, what is this discovery then? Take off that 
blindfold ! Look at me !” 

“No one knows that except myself,” said Warden, re- 
moving the cloth from his head. 

“But, I, Wilhelm ... the Emperor, am asking you. 
That makes a difference.” 

“None whatever, to me, Sir.” 

The Emperor was, unmistakably, swallowing his 
pride and his conceit. If the rebuff in Warden’s last 
reply struck its mark, Wilhelm did not allow it to be 
seen. 


276 


THE PASSPORT 


“We have heard that, with your discovery, large 
bodies of men can be overcome, rendered helpless, so 
that they could easily be made prisoners. Is that so ?” 

The Emperor was evidently repeating von der Hulze’s 
formula from memory. 

“That is so,” Warden calmly responded. 

“Is it a gas or a solid?” 

“It is a secret.” 

“Have you given any government the exclusive right 
to your discovery, whatever it is?” 

“No one will ever have the exclusive or any other 
right to it,” answered Warden, very earnestly. “It 
would be too terrible a weapon in the hands of any 
Power, an unscrupulous Power, for instance.” 

The Emperor winced under the searching look that 
the young American gave him. But he returned to 
the attack again at once: 

“Then why did you go to the British Foreign Office ?” 

“Under certain conditions I would be inclined to 
allow the British government, as well as the French 
government, to have the benefit of my special knowl- 
edge.” 

The Imperial inquistor shifted his position impa- 
tiently and seemed to be weighing his words carefully. 

“It is, then, a matter of . . . money?” he finally 
asked. 

“Not entirely.” Warden was now perfectly at ease 
with this man, who was such a bogey to so many thous- 
ands but who, with him, was conducting an ordinary 
business conversation in an ordinary way, except for 
the unusual time and place. 

“You have not finally closed with the British gov- 
ernment?” 


THE PASSPORT 


277 


“Not finally, no.” The American was curious to see 
what would result. 

“Then . . . you might consider an offer . . . from 
Germany?” slowly and distinctly came from the Em- 
peror. “I am willing to give you several million dol- 
lars for your discovery — if it is what is claimed for it. 
But Germany is to have the exclusive right to it for a 
term of years, say fifty years.” 

“That would be quite impossible,” Warden replied. 
“I am afraid Germany could never have the benefit of 
the knowledge that I happen to have. No one nation 
shall have the exclusive right to it, or the opportunity 
to use it, unless — ” 

“Yes, yes? Unless what?” interrupted the Emperor. 

“Unless you detain me in Germany five minutes 
longer than midnight day after to-morrow, in which 
event, because of my not having communicated with my 
friends, the secret is, automatically, at the disposal of 
all the allies now against you as well as of Holland, 
Switzerland, the United States, of course, and also of 
Denmark.” 

“I do not quite understand this.” The Emperor 
spoke with forced calmness. “In what manner will this 
. . . discovery ... of yours go to these nations?” 

“It means, Sir,” explained Warden, “that I have 
made the most minute arrangements to safeguard the 
formula that I have evolved. If I live, or if I die a 
natural death while in the hands of friends , the formula 
will be used in such a manner by those to whom it be- 
comes, automatically, entrusted, that Germany will 
suffer the least. For example, the Russians would not 
be able to avail themselves of it and devastate your 
country from the Russian border to the very Rhine. 


278 


THE PASSPORT 


The British and French, you know, as well as I do, fight 
fair and will not devastate. In that they are different 
from the Germans, as you also know. They would 
not ...” 

“Your ignorance of court etiquette makes you im- 
pertinent !” said the Emperor, sharply. 

“This is hardly the time to speak of court etiquette, 
Mr. Emperor,” replied Warden, with some heat. “I 
am a plain American, one of many millions who abhor 
the manner in which you have made war. Fortunately, 
I have been given the power to discover a mode of end- 
ing your bloody warfare. Fortunately for me, I am 
so placed this moment that you would not dare to have 
violent hands laid upon me, for I am worth more to you 
alive than dead. In fact, it is to see me safely guarded 
wherein lie your vital interests. I am not the kind that 
bullies or that browbeats. I do not threaten. All that 
I say is that I alone can prevent Russia from marching 
over your country like ants. You know what such a 
march would mean; it might even equal in horror the 
German march through poor Belgium.” 

“But why not listen to reason,” spoke the Emperor, 
almost in a monotone. There was little of fire in his 
speech now. “You can make untold money, which will 
be paid you in gold, if you will give up your secret to 
Germany. I will cause an apology to be sent to your 
President and government and will cause a treaty to 
be entered into whereby your country and mine will 
have the closest relations hereafter, without a thought 
of a political difference.” 

Warden smiled sadly, shaking his head. “You do 
me a great honor, Sir, to consider me a special envoy 
from my country, which I am not. I am not entering 
into treaty negotiations with Germany or any other 


THE PASSPORT 


279 


nations. I am sorry for Germany, really, but I am 
afraid that, hereafter, your country will have to have 
a surety bond before any nation will accept a treaty 
from you. I shall expect, of course, before I leave you, 
that an order shall be immediately issued by you can- 
celling that absurd ultimatum that your Foreign Office 
has sent to our good President. That is one of the 
conditions I make for preventing the ransacking of 
your empire by the Slavs. I am free to tell you” — the 
Emperor began pacing up and down within a limited 
space in front of Warden — “that, from personal in- 
vestigations I have made, with our secret service offi- 
cers, I think you had considerable assurance to pro- 
voke a peaceful government which your people were 
doing their best to undermine right within sight of the 
White House.” 

The Emperor had stopped his pacing and stood, 
squarely facing Warden, his legs spread, in an atti- 
tude that might have been taken for one of defiance. 

“What do Great Britain and France expect to ac- 
complish?” he demanded. 

“To stop the war, I suppose.” 

“What are they going to demand of Germany?” 

“Again you are considering me as an envoy from 
another government,” remonstrated Warden. “The 
British Foreign Office has not taken me in its confidence. 
Neither has the French Foreign Office.” 

“Do they desire to dismember the empire? Have you 
heard anything about this?” 

“I do not think they do,” Warden replied. “In fact 
I am almost sure they do not, for I am inclined to make 
that a condition if the allies are to use my secret. I 
am candidly hopeful that they will make you pay for 
every dollar’s worth of damage that you have done to 


280 


THE PASSPORT 


Belgium and to Northern France, to pay for every 
vessel, to the smallest fishing smack, which your sub- 
marines have murderously sunk, or which have been 
sunk by your sea raiders, to pay full toll to the allies 
for their war expenditures so that they, in turn, may 
fully provide for the orphans and widows that you have 
made and to make such arrangements as will prevent 
Germany from ever again going on the warpath.” 

The Emperor laughed but the laugh was far from 
mirthful. He strove to conceal an impotent rage with 
a smile that made the attempt at deceit the more ridic- 
ulous. 

“You should be recommended to my enemies as a 
peace dictator,” he said, sarcastically. “You would 
leave us nothing at all. We might as well fight to the 
finish and be done with it.” 

“Pardon me, Sir, you will find that they can do much 
worse — if terms of peace are dictated also from your 
eastern boundaries.” 

The allusion to the Slavs and the possibility of a 
Slav invasion again caused the Emperor to change his 
manner. It was his one vital spot and Warden was 
quick to take immediate advantage. 

“You can save Germany a great deal of unnecessary 
agony,” he pursued, earnestly. “You cannot possibly 
save her from ultimate defeat. I am but ...” 

“You are but a young fool, an impertinent young 
fool!” angrily declared the monarch. 

“I am young, granted,” returned Warden, patiently. 
“I am not a fool, and no one knows that better than 
you do. I am placed in a position such as no young 
man ever was placed in before and probably never will 
again. I refuse, point blank, to accept the so called 


THE PASSPORT 


281 


majesty of your position. You are to me the head of 
a nation, no more majestic or august than the Presi- 
dent of the United States and certainly not better. In 
your individual case, not nearly so good or great. I 
have a certain power over you, given to me by the 
same God whom you so recklessly and sacrilegiously 
bring into your warlike and destructive utterances. I 
am using this power for nothing except to save — not to 
kill and conquer as you would use it. There is no im- 
pertinence in trying to convince you that I cannot sell 
myself to you or Germany. Neither need you any 
proof that I can do what I claim I can do. You have 
had your reports of your U-40, captured by me, single- 
handed; the preventing of the shooting in the Cleve 
court-yard of three German women; the collapse of 
your scheme to establish submarine bases and work- 
shops in American waters. You know that my secret 
is potent.” 

“What is it that you want?” The words were said 
harshly and with evident effort. 

“I desire a free conduct for myself and Miss Mary 
Rerwin, through your lines, to France,” Warden said, 
in decided tones. “I want you to have that miserable 
little Colonel von Tiipper stopped in his wanton killing 
of women — your own, German women, mind you. I 
want every threat against my own country immediately 
withdrawn and an apology sent to my President. I 
want you to make an emphatic statement, which is to 
be strictly lived up to, that no more assassination shall 
be indulged in. The German submarines are to give 
everyone on board the vessels that they stop full chance 
to get away before their vessel is sunk. You know what 
the world thinks to-day of the German murder of fif- 
teen hundred non-combatants on the Lusitania 


282 


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“That was an error, a lamentable error,” murmured 
the Emperor. “I never authorized that act.” 

“It makes little difference whether you authorized it 
or not. Make sure that no one else authorizes it in 
the future. Do all this, and promptly, Mr. Emperor” 
— Warden was intensely serious — “and I shall use my 
good offices with your enemies to have the final account- 
ing made as palatable as they possibly can. To that 
extent, I .shall agree to act as your envoy, before the 
final peace terms are dictated.” 

The Emperor seemed not to notice him. 

Finally, pulling himself together, he turned toward 
where he had last seen von der Hulse and the other 
members of the General Staff. The Heavenward ray 
of the automobile searchlight having been extinguished 
as soon as the Emperor reached the rendezvous, there 
was little light and Wilhelm found it difficult to locate 
his entourage. 

The Emperor placed two fingers of his right hand in 
his mouth, as a schoolboy does with so much noncha- 
lant dexterity, and brought out a slight, peculiar 
whistling sound. 

Instantly von der Hulze and another General came 
out of the enshrouding gloom. 

“Where is this young woman this man speaks of?” 
Wilhelm demanded of the Chief of Staff. 

“I have just received word that she is at Endheim, 
Your Majesty,” responded von der Hulze. “It seems 
she had trouble with von Tiipper and escaped to End- 
heim.” 

Warden, overhearing the colloquy, was all ears. 

“Send her here. Have an automobile get her imme- 
diately. See to it that ” 

“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” broke in Warden, bow- 


THE PASSPORT 


283 


ing slightly, the Emperor involuntarily starting at the 
unlooked-for title from the American and the respectful 
obeisance that accompanied it. “My satchel, contain- 
ing my clothes, is at General von der Hulze’s headquar- 
ters. I should like that brought here also. As Miss 
Berwin left Cleve hurriedly, will you order that her 
effects be forwarded here as well?” 

A feather would have knocked von der Hulze and the 
other member of the Staff down at that moment. 

Both gasped at the temerity of the young American 
who had dared to address their august monarch with- 
out permission. 

Their amazement was increased when the Emperor 
did not appear to resent the intrusion but, instead, 
nodded assent. 

“Have that done also,” he repeated to von der 
Hulze, who did not seem to understand what was being 
said to him. “Furthermore,” continued Wilhelm, “in 
the case of this young man, I desire that he reach the 
enemies’ lines without delay. I shall give him a safe 
conduct. Who has the portfolio ?” he demanded, as one 
of the officers hastened away. The officer was called 
back and told to bring writing materials. 

When the portfolio was held before Wilhelm, one of 
the Staff allowed the light from a small electric lamp 
to fall upon the pad. 

The Emperor wrote without hesitation, on cards 
which he had taken from his pocket while waiting for 
the return of the officer, apparently knowing exactly 
what he was about. There was a business-like way 
about him which again brought to Warden the thought 
that it was a pity that Wilhelm was not the head of a 
great, hustling American corporation. He smiled at 
the idea of the trusts and combines this remarkable, 


284 ? 


THE PASSPORT 


versatile individual would then, undoubtedly, create. 

The execution of the safe conducts took but a few 
moments, while the chill night air made the strange 
group on the outskirts of that German military camp 
shiver uncomfortably, even in their warm coats and 
capes. Both cards read alike, the one made out for 
.Warden stating: 

TO ALL COMMANDING OFFICERS: 

Extend to Mr, Richard Warden every 
‘facility to reach French or British lines 
as expeditiously as possible. Place every 
mode of transportation at his disposal. 

By Imperial Command: 
WILHELM II, REX. 

Finished, the Emperor allowed the bowing and sub- 
servient von der Hulze to take the portfolio, the Chief 
of Staff, in turn, handing the two precious bits of 
paste-board with a profound courtesy to Warden. Von 
der Hulze thereupon transmitted the Emperor’s orders 
to the others, who left the scene, leaving the monarch 
and his Chief of Staff alone with Warden. Von der 
Hulze excusing himself, in order to add something to 
the orders he had given, gave JVarden the opportunity 
to thank Wilhelm. 

“I thank you for these cards, Sir,” he said, pleas- 
antly. He did not employ the higher title, now that 
they were again by themselves. The Emperor noticed 
it, as he had noticed the obsequiousness of the previous 
salutation, when von der Hulze was present. 

“Gliicldiche Reise” said the Emperor, somewhat bit- 
terly, but without anger. “I noted the respect with 


THE PASSPORT 


285 


which you addressed me in the presence of my Staff, 
which I appreciated.” 

Von der Hulze returning, there followed a brief con- 
ference between him and the Emperor. 

Then Wilhelm signed to the aviator that he was 
ready. 

An hour and a half had elapsed since the arrival of 
the Imperial aeroplane. 

Again its motor was started. Plalf a dozen husky 
Germans, routed from their slumbers in the camp, 
pushed it along the ground for a short distance, and 
the strange, midnight visit from the skies of Wilhelm 
of Hohenzollern became a memory. 

General von der Hulze and the other German officers, 
standing rigidly, with their right hands at salute and 
facing the spot from which their august visitor had 
made his departure, remained motionless long after the 
whirr of the aircraft’s motor had faded into a scarcely 
audible moan. 

Then each of the four stalwart Prussians gave vent 
to a deep sigh, which, blending into one great exhala- 
tion, plainly spoke their deification of the Hohenzol- 
lerns. 

Von der Hulze, turning to Warden, said, with the 
utmost courtesy: 

“You will be shown to your quarters for the night, 
Sir.” 


CHAPTER XX 1 


The notes from a bugle brought Warden out of a 
sound slumber. At first he could not understand where 
he was. Instead of a ceiling, his gaze met a flapping 
tent covering and it was a full minute before he real- 
ized that he had slept in a camp, a German camp, and 
that all the preplexities that he had felt sure would be 
encountered before he got through with the Germans, 
were nullified by the two bits of cardboard that were 
securely hidden away in his wallet. 

He was surprised to see his satchel on the raised floor, 
near his cot, and, jumping from under the army blan- 
ket that had sheltered him during the night, he was 
still more surprised to see a camp orderly coming 
through the opening of the tent, bearing a tray in one 
hand and with Warden’s trousers slung over his other 
arm, the garment carefully pressed. 

There came an involuntary smile to his lips as he 
realized the attention that was being bestowed upon 
him, merely because von der Hulze and the others in 
command were in ignorance of his real status with the 
Kaiser and were taking no chances. The safe con- 
ducts, personally executed by His Majesty, were all- 
sufficient to provide an open sesame in the eyes of those 
who were not in the secret of what had really transpired 
between Warden and the Emperor at that midnight 
meeting. 

He thanked the orderly, who told him that Fraulein 
Berwin was expected at the camp within a few hours, 


THE PASSPORT 


287 


the young woman having remained at General von der 
Hulze’s headquarters at Endheim for the night. 

After he had enjoyed the frugal breakfast that had 
been sent to him, he strolled out of his tent and along 
the outskirts of the camp. Twice he was challenged 
by sentinels and twice these same sentinels fell back and 
stiffened up like marble pillars when they had seen the 
“Wilhelm II, REX” and the Imperial coat-of-arms on 
the safe conduct card. 

He was struck with the remarkable system of the 
German camp. There was not a stick or stone out of 
its place. Not a speck of dirt was to be found any- 
where and the sanitary perfection of the arrangements 
extended even to the improvised stables. What he saw 
of the camp — which covered an immense area over the 
entire valley — made him realize the thoroughness of 
the German military organization. 

He no longer wondered that the Kaiser’s men held 
their own against vastly superior numbers of the enemy. 
The force that he surveyed in this valley, if held in 
leash as a re-inforcement, would prove a mighty one 
and would explain to him — even though it might convey 
no meaning to those at a distance from the war zone — 
the stereotyped report of “the Germans, after being 
driven back, secured reinforcements and overwhelmed 
the enemy.” 

His morning stroll, which had taken him a consider- 
able distance from his tent, was interrupted by the same 
orderly who had previously attended him. The man 
saluted and, with military precision, announced that 
Fraiilein Berwin awaited Herr Warden at camp head- 
quarters. 

Mary looked more girlish in her youthful beauty 
than ever to him, as he approached the Hauptquartier. 


288 


THE PASSPORT 


A number of young German officers were grouped about 
her, their stiff, pompous attitudes unyielding even to 
the presence of the charming picture before them. They 
fawned and smirked and carried their ’kerchiefs from 
the cuffs of their uniform sleeves to their thick, red 
lips and otherwise disported themselves as young gal- 
lants in amicable rivalry over the smiles of a pretty 
woman. 

But when Mary dropped the delicate lace confection 
that she had carried in her hand, four corseted, tight- 
ly-laced, apoplectic-faced Prussians struggled for a 
full two minutes before the first of them was able to 
secure the dainty mouchoir and return it to its fair 
owner. The oppressively cumbersome Prussianism, so 
often remarked upon in German military operations, 
was quite as much in evidence in their social gallantry. 

There was no trace of the annoyance that she had 
suffered in her hurried departure from Cleve, as Mary 
greeted him. 

“Dick ., . . dear Dick! Oh I am so happy to be 
here!” she exclaimed, as she gave several little jumps 
in her ecstacy. It was an American victory over the 
Germans, for the Prussians withdrew to the shadow of 
their tent, leaving Warden and the beautiful girl to 
themselves. “I have had a perfectly exciting time since 
you left Cleve yesterday,” she continued, with anima- 
tion. “First of all, that miserable little von Tiipper 
sent for me and proved most unpleasant. He would 
not allow me to go back to Holland, nor would he allow 
me to proceed to Endheim, or to do anything else ex- 
cept to stay in Cleve. Something about the man fright- 
ened me and I eagerly accepted Captain Aller’s sug- 
gestion to see me safely smuggled aboard the train for 
Endheim, with the chance of finding you. I do hope 


THE PASSPORT 


289 


Captain Aller will not get in trouble for helping me. 
He was a real friend. I reached Endheim very late 
last night and at once went to headquarters. I was 
treated with every courtesy there. They gave me a 
room with a smoldering log-fire, beautifully appointed 
and the first thing I found was a book, ready opened at 
one of Heine’s delightfully romantic poems. 

“I was told to remain there until the General could 
be communicated with. Well, let’s see. Oh, yes, I 
asked the officer in charge, particularly, not to let that 
miserable little upstart of a von Tiipper get hold of me, 
and he smiled. Dick, I do not think they care much 
for that little man, any of them. They told me you 
had gone on with the General — somewhere — they did 
not know where. That frightened me at first, but they 
assured me that you were safe. Then, at an unearthly 
hour this morning, they called me to take an automo- 
bile ride! Now, Sir,” — and there was a charming at- 
tempt at severity in her manner — “tell us what you 
have been doing! You walk about here as if you own 
the place. Our position is rather unconventional, I 
should say” — she laughed heartily as Warden nodded 
a sober assent — “What are the orders, General?” — 
she saluted, in true Prussian style, trying to look se- 
rious — “what are we going to do next?” 

Fascinated by her prattle, Warden had not inter- 
rupted her. Mary was not the sort to get either fright- 
ened or irritated over trivial annoyances, nor at the 
greater ones, for that matter. Inconveniences were 
not important to her, if there were no serious results ; 
she was able to acclimate herself immediately to cir- 
cumstances and conditions. 

So, while she had been, for a time, frightened over her 
experiences with von Tiipper, the two striking incidents, 


290 


THE PASSPORT 


to her, of her arrival at Endheim had not been her lone- 
liness and helplessness in a strange country, but the 
cheerful open fire in the comfortable room of the cha- 
teau and the volume of Heine’s poems, turned open at 
a romance! 

They were told that a military automobile, which 
came up to headquarters at that moment, had been 
placed at their disposal as far as Eupen, where the 
authorities at the “former Belgian frontier” would 
make further arrangements for their journey to the 
enemy lines. 

Warden was cautioned to have his safe conduct cards 
ready at hand for instant inspection upon demand, as 
little time was wasted by the German patrols in parley- 
ing, and that he would save himself annoyance by ask- 
ing as few questions along the way as possible. 

It was a splendid day and, after they had passed out 
of the valley and reached the top of a steep grade on 
the hills opposite, they found that their route lay 
through a beautiful Prussian countryside. Occasion- 
ally they would meet with army transports, bound in 
the same direction that they were, making short hauls 
of ammunition and other military necessities to the 
railroad depots whence, thanks to the remarkably com- 
plete German transportation scheme, they were hurried 
to the front by steam. 

At railroad crossings, they were halted twice by 
long, melancholy troop-trains, the windows of the 
coaches choked with stolid, expressionless faces. There 
were no hurrahs, no animated waving of hands and hel- 
mets. The days of war enthusiasm had evidently gone 
by. Those whom they saw, bound for the battle-lines, 
were in no mood for exhultant greetings. Resignation 
rather than eagerness was written on the faces. These 


THE PASSPORT 


291 


troop-trains reminded Warden strongly of the long 
lines of cattle-trains he had seen entering Chicago, with 
the dull, patient brutes going to the slaughter and, 
seemingly, sub-consciously aware of their approaching 
end. He turned to Mary. 

“It is less than a fortnight ago that I said good-bye 
to you in New York, believing you would wait for my 
return there, and here we are, both of us, travelling by 
the grace of the Kaiser’s permission.” 

“It is strange, isn’t it, Dick. Mamma was terribly 
worried about me when I left London but I sent her a 
telegram from Holland, telling, her I was safe and that 
everything was alright.” 

“You are not the least bit regretful that you followed 
me to Europe, dear?” 

“Would I have hurried after you, when I thought 
you wanted me to bring the packet to Germany, if I 
was sorry that I did what I did?” There was intense 
affection for the stalwart young American in the gaze 
that she bestowed upon him. “ My Richard. My great, 
big, wonderful Richard. Tell me, dear, how did you 
manage to be allowed to travel about this way. Did 
you hypnotize them or something, to make them so 
anxious to please?” 

“No,” Warden replied, laughing. “I just remembered 
one thing, and one thing only, and that was that I had 
a certain way to go, that justice was on my side and 
that it was up to me to convince everyone with whom I 
came in contact that it was to his interest to see me on 
my way.” 

There was a short period of silence, during which 
both drank in of the perfume that came from a million 
blossoms on the fields. Suddenly Mary looked at her 
companion in a frightened way. 


292 


THE PASSPORT 


“Dick,” she began, “have you heard anything about 
what is happening in America? The last I heard was 
that Germany had sent a threat to the President and 
that war was to be expected.” 

“I have heard nothing but I am pretty sure that the 
ultimatum that was sent to Washington has been with- 
drawn by this time and that there is not the slightest 
danger of war.” 

“Why, what makes you think so, Dick?” 

“The Kaiser practically said so to me.” 

“The . . . Kaiser? Are you dreaming, boy?” 

“Certainly not, dear. Who got me to the camp 
which we have just left? The Kaiser. Who had you 
brought to the camp from Endheim? The Kaiser. 
Who provides this motorcar for us? The Kaiser. 
Who is seeing us safely to within the French or British 
lines? Why, the Kaiser, of course. And here are the 
Kaiser’s credentials.” He showed her the personally- 
signed, Imperially-crested-and-stamped safe-conducts, 
which amazed her considerably, and the next half-hour 
was taken up with a recital, in detail, of Warden’s ex- 
periences since leaving Rotterdam the morning after 
Mary left the same Dutch city for the German frontier. 

“Dick, you are a wonderful hero !” exclaimed the girl, 
delightedly. “You do not seem to realize that you , 
alone, settled the trouble that Germany threatened the 
United States with. What are you going to do next?” 

“Get into France as quickly as possible and make 
the final arrangements for the preparation of my gas 
bombs, before they can start another big battle and 
kill some more thousands on both sides. Four days in 
Europe have given me my fill of war, its horrors and its 
injustice as well as its related acts of individual cruelty. 


THE PASSPORT 


293 


That one incident in the Cleve court-yard was enough 
to sicken me of war.” 

“Captain Aller told me the three women had been 
reprieved for two days by the Colonel.” 

“General von der Hulze saved them altogether, that 
same night,” said Warden. 

At Eupen, close to the “former Belgian frontier,” 
as the officer in the camp had characterized it, they 
quit their motorcar at the railroad station. A Prus- 
sian petty officer, scenting an opportunity for trouble, 
stepped briskly forward as the chauffeur was placing 
the luggage of the couple on the station platform. 

“Your passports !” he demanded, roughly, making no 
attempt at civility even in the presence of the young 
woman. 

Warden handed over the two cards signed by the 
Emperor and the petty officer stuttered several words 
in a wild endeavor to regain his equilibrium and do 
homage to these two young people who had been so sig- 
nally favored by the Hohenzollern. 

“The next military train is expected to pass through 
in two hours or less. Will the Herr and the Fraiilein 
partake of refreshment, perhaps?” He was as servile 
now as he had been pompous and domineering before. 

Warden escorted Mary into the station waiting room, 
where a small counter served as the dispensary for such 
food as was available for those who stopped at the 
frontier post. Everything was military, even to the 
man who stood behind the counter. There being no 
civilian traffic across the border, the ticket booth had 
been transformed into an office for the clerk of the 
transportation bureau, who regulated the movement of 
the trains for the front with fresh troops and from the 
front with the maimed and sick. 


294 


THE PASSPORT 


In time the westward-bound train came in sight 
through the Prussian valley. There were signals from 
the frontier officers and a series of responsive whistles 
from the locomotive. Then eighteen coaches, drawn by 
two great, puffing engines, came to a stop and several 
hundred young Germans, in their regimentals, jumped 
from the cars to stretch their limbs on the platform 
during the brief delay at Eupen. 

After much trouble, during which the obsequious 
petty officer wore himself out in his efforts to oblige 
the two Americans, room was found for the latter in 
one of the rear compartments, from which some sol- 
diers had gone in search of exercise and refreshment. 

There were still eight men in the compartment, the 
atmosphere of which was fetid and Warden looked for- 
ward with unfeigned disgust at not being able to pro- 
vide better accommodations for his dainty companion. 
Mary appeared so completly out of place in this gath- 
ering of dirty, unwashed Landstrum men. 

The potency of Wilhelm’s signature was again in 
evidence, however, for a few moments after they had 
taken their seats, they were called upon to produce 
their passports by the officer commanding the regiment 
on the train. When this worthy glanced at the two 
cards he at once ordered every soldier out of the com- 
partment. A remonstrance, unspoken but glared, from 
one of the unfortunate privates, brought a cuff on the 
side of the face that sent the obstreperous soldier head- 
long to the station platform. Then the officer com- 
manding apologized to Warden for the untidy appear- 
ance of the compartment and the slowness with which 
the men had evacuated their quarters. 

It was a miserably slow, dusty and tiresome journey 


THE PASSPORT 


295 


on the military train. The outlook from tKe compart- 
ment window was no more cheerful, for on every side 
was devastation, miles upon miles of it. Every house 
appeared to be either entirely in ruins or partly so. 
Where shells had taken off a corner of a building, or a 
portion of the roof, rough repairs had been made in 
cases where the luckless Belgians had returned to their 
wrecked abodes. Nowhere was there the slightest evi- 
dence of rural activity. Children played in ruins, dogs 
and pigs rambled through ruins and such houses and 
farm buildings as were occupied were no longer sur- 
rounded by walls or fences. Fields looked dishevelled 
and forlorn, plowed up in spots where huge shells had 
torn into the bowels of the earth, but without a sign 
of Springtime verdure. Here and there was a tree 
from which the green sprouts tried bravely to issue 
notwithstanding the scorching fire to which the branches 
had been subjected; but the trees that stood were few 
indeed in that desolate country. 

Whenever the train came to a stop, which was of 
frequent occurrence, wan-faced children without the 
usual interest in their looks, stood gaping stupidly at 
the soldier-laden coaches. Soldiers were no longer a 
novelty to them, apparently, and they gathered at the 
stopping places only because there was nothing else for 
them to do. 

Towards dusk the officer in charge of the train came 
to their compartment and told Warden that the train 
was going no further that night, probably no further 
at all. He advised Warden to seek lodgings at one of 
the houses in the neighborhood telling him that, if he 
met with any opposition on the part of the householder, 
to let him know at once. 


296 


THE PASSPORT 


“If any of these Belgian cattle refuse to take you 
in, we have a way of bringing them to their senses,” 
the officer declared, significantly. 

“Thank you, but I am very sure these good Belgian 
folk will be very glad to give what poor hospitality is 
left them to give, which is not much, I grant,” said 
Warden, testily. 

This attitude of friendliness towards the Belgians, 
on the part of a man travelling on the hallowed Em- 
peror’s personal pass, was beyond the Prussian’s power 
of comprehension. He looked in frank amazement at 
the American, then bowed stiffly and turned away. 

Nearby, Warden saw a little homestead that seemed 
to have escaped the ravages of the shell-fire that had 
demolished most of the surrounding buildings. On a 
guess he and Mary went over to it, after first securing 
the services of a Belgian boy to carry their two satch- 
els. In front of the house sat an old woman, kindly- 
faced but with deep sorrow marking her furrowed brow. 
Warden addressed her in French, asking whether she 
had sufficient room to put Mary and himself up for the 
night. If not, would there be room for Mary and he 
would seek another house close by. 

“We are Americans,” Warden said, reassuringly. 
“This young lady is under my protection and I am es- 
corting her to France.” 

“Mon Dieu! To . . . France . . . this way?” re- 
plied the old woman, unbelieving. 

“Yes, yes, to France and this way,” smiled Warden. 
“No fear, mother, we shall get there, only we must put 
up somewhere for the night. yVe could not very well 
remain in the train.” 

Slowly and silently the old woman led the way into 
the house. 


THE PASSPORT 


297 


“I shall have some supper for you, presently,” she 
said. “It is not much that we can offer you now. 
They have taken everything — everything !” 

A little later they were sitting under the dim light 
of a lamp in the old-fashioned living room, enjoying 
a stew, some rough bread and a glass of light wine, the 
latter, the old woman said, having escaped the clutches 
of the drink-crazed Prussians when they first went 
through the village. There was little use for it now, 
she explained, for she had been left alone with her 
daughter. Husband and three sons had been killed. 
No, not in battle, but murdered — against a wall — at 
the other end of the village, together with the good 
Cure and the village schoolmaster. The assassins had 
been drunk the night before and one of them had at- 
tacked her daughter. Her youngest son had knocked 
the Prussian brute to the ground. The Prussian had 
reported to his commanding officer that he had been 
wantonly attacked by the boy and that the others had 
also tried to kill the Kaiser’s men. The assassination 
followed, without the slightest inquiry into the merits 
of the case. 

“But others have suffered worse than I have,” mut- 
tered the old woman. “There is still my little grand- 
son. He will avenge us some day.” 

The boy, ten years of age, came in at the moment, 
telling his grandmere that there was a company of 
mounted Prussians coming through the village. In- 
stinctively, and notwithstanding her sorrow, the an- 
nouncement of any local happening took the old wo- 
man to the door of her house to see the new arrivals. 
Warden and Mary followed. They saw a company of 
Uhlans coming through the village street, riding 
proudly and on excellent mounts. 


298 


THE PASSPORT 


In stopping, one of the horses reared and turned at 
the same moment, the combined movement and the 
quickness of it, causing the Uhlan on its back to fall 
from the saddle. In tumbling, the soldier went through 
a number of comical evolutions that brought smiles to 
the faces of both Warden and Mary and, in the case 
of the hostess’s grandson, loud, childish peals of laugh- 
ter. 

The boy’s merriment was heard by the Captain of 
the Uhlans, nearest to the house. He turned to one of 
his men and, pointing to where the little grandson was 
still laughing, shouted: 

“Get that boy !” 

Warden was aghast at the turn affairs were taking. 
A tall Uhlan dismounted and grabbed the little chap 
who, involuntarily, tried to hide between Mary and the 
old grandmother. 

“Shoot the brat!” came the next order from the 
Uhlan Captain. “Take him away and teach these swine 
a lesson !” 

The aged woman shuffled forward from where she 
had been standing with Warden and Mary. She knelt 
in the road before the Captain’s horse, in momentary 
danger of being trampled by the restive animal. 

“The child meant no harm !” she pleaded, in French. 
“Do not take him away from me. He is the last of 
our family. He did not mean to laugh at -the officer’s 
misfortune.” 

“Get out of the way!” brutally replied the Uhlan 
commander, using very poor French. “Get out or I’ll 
drive my horse over your dirty Belgian carcass !” 

Mary was unable to stand passive any longer. Be- 
fore Warden could restrain her, she had rushed out into 
the road. 


THE PASSPORT 


299 


“You brute!” she said, scornfully, to the Prussian, 
and in his own language. “I am ashamed of my Ger- 
man birth !” 

“Who are you, now, my beauty?” A bestial laugh 
accompanied the inquiry. 

Warden, who had followed Mary, came up at this 
moment. Before Mary could speak again, he had hold 
of the Uhlan’s horse, which threatened to plunge over 
both Mary and the aged Belgian woman at any mo- 
ment. 

“Let go of that horse !” shouted the Uhlan. “Here, 
you” — to another of the troop — “take the old woman 
and let her see the brat shot.” 

There was no softening in the brutal face as they 
started to drag the venerable grandmother away. 
'What was intended for a smile took shape as a sneer on 
the heavy, wet lips of the Uhlan Captain. He sat mag- 
nificently in his saddle, erect, with head perfectly poised. 

“Take them away!” he shouted again. “Remember, 
shoot around the brat first !” he ordered in a lower tone 
to a subordinate. Then, louder, “No harm to the old 
one.” 

Turning to Warden, who had released his hold on 
the bridle of the captain’s horse when Mary stepped 
back and the old woman had been raised to her feet, 
the Uhlan sneered : 

“Now we will attend to you!” 

“You call back those men with the woman and the 
boy or you will find that you will regret this day. 
Look !” Warden handed the captain the safe-conducts. 
When the officer saw the signatures and the official 
marks on the passes he shouted a quick order and an- 
other Uhlan dashed after the men who had taken the 
two prisoners away. 


800 


THE PASSPORT 


“I am not certain that this card from His Majesty 
gives you the right to interfere wfth the work of his 
officers,” said the Uhlan Captain, undecidedly. 

“I am very sure that it does not give me that right,” 
responded Warden quickly. “I know that as well as 
you do. But it does not deny me the privilege of in- 
forming His Majesty of what I have seen this evening, 
a most shameful abuse of authority. It is not because 
you think this card gives me the right to interfere with 
you but because you would not want me to possibly 
report your conduct to your Emperor that you have 
reconsidered your order for this assassination.” 

The Uhlan Captain winced under the words, which 
were given distinct emphasis by Warden so that each 
should go directly home under that uniform of blue 
and gold. 

Presently the aged grandmother and her little grand- 
son were brought back, more gently than they had been 
taken away. The old woman looked wonderingly, first 
at the Uhlan Captain, then at Warden and Mary. She 
could not understand what miracle had happened but, 
to her mind, a miracle it had been and she piously 
moved to a small crucifix that stood near the house in 
what had once been a garden and prostrated herself 
and her grandson before the figure of the Saviour. 

In the morning Warden was informed that another 
train would probably leave the village during the fore- 
noon for a point close to the front from which latter 
place he and Mary would be able to secure a military 
automobile to take them, under a flag of truce, inside 
the enemy lines. 

The point at which, he was told, he and Mary would 
likely cross the battle-line would be about ten miles 
to the west of the Argonnes. Warden calculated that 


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301 


this would bring them to Chalons, the headquarters of 
General Langle de Carry and that, from Chalons, the 
distance was about equal to that which the French and 
British General Staffs would have to travel to meet him 
in the French capital. 

The nearer he approached France, the less desirous 
he became to take the part of Germany. He was now 
firmly convinced of the inborn brutality of the Prus- 
sians and that the only salvation of Europe — and the 
whole civilized world, for that matter — demanded the 
complete overthrow of Prussianism once and for all. 

He had found the Prussian officer a tyrant even to 
his subordinates, an example that was not lost on the 
rank and file, who bestowed a like tyranny and bru- 
tality upon the defenseless and helpless inhabitants of 
enemy towns and hamlets. 

No, there was no solution to the problem facing Eu- 
rope except the absolute suppression of the Hohenzol- 
lerns and all the feudal barbarism that they repre- 
sented. 

He felt that God had given him a weapon, a peace- 
ful, humane weapon, with which to attain that end. 


CHAPTER XXI 


The country through which they were now passing, 
the southwestern section of Belgium, was even more 
desolate in appearance than that which they had tra- 
versed the day before. Mere Lambin had provided the 
young American couple with a little basket, in which 
had been stowed a loaf of bread, some cheese, a sau- 
sage and a bottle of native wine. This was to consti- 
tute their mid-day meal and its presentation was ac- 
companied by a more than usually fervent blessing from 
the old Belgian woman. It was the only material token 
of gratitude that Mere Lambin could offer Warden for 
having saved her and her little grandson from the bru- 
tal Uhlans and the fact that the fearless American had 
demanded of the Uhlan Captain his name and regimen- 
tal number, as a hostage for his future good behavior 
towards the inhabitants of Mere Lambin’s village, did 
not lessen the esteem that Warden was held in by his 
hostess and by the other residents of the place. 

Warden as well as Mary tired of the continued scenes 
of devastation that glided by the compartment windows. 
As before, the Kaiser’s cards afforded them the privacy 
of a compartment to themselves and after two hours’ 
travelling, during which the train — half troop, half 
freight — reeled off a scarce twenty miles, both turned 
to the basket as much for a change of thought and ac- 
tion as for a definite desire to eat. The dry bread, 
cheese and sausage, however, went remarkably well. 


THE PASSPORT 


303 


washed down with a sip from the bottle. It was a dem- 
ocratic meal, for there were no knives, forks or glasses, 
but Mary smiled as she raised the bottle and allowed 
the essence of the grape to trickle down her throat, 
an operation that amused Warden as much as it did 
Mary, with the result that both forgot their uncom- 
fortable journeying and laughed and jested like two 
children on a picnic. 

At Marche the train halted for the fifth time in an 
hour and for the fifth time in that hour the officer in 
command of the soldiers guarding that section of the 
railroad line opened the compartment door for a look 
at the passports. Like all his predecessors on the 
same mission he hastily banged the door shut again, af- 
ter he had seen the Imperial safe-conduct cards, with 
a salute and an apology. 

Near the railroad station was a field fenced in for 
cavalry and artillery horses. That, in itself, was 
nothing to w r arrant much attention, but the horses, of 
whom there might possibly have been two hundred, 
would have made glad the hearts of a company of St. 
Patrick’s Day paraders. The beasts were a vivid green 
and they looked uncanny in their verdant make-up. A 
few were still in process of having their natural color 
altered to suit the exigencies of the campaign, as could 
be seen from the careful and discriminating use of a 
huge brush and a pailful of bright, green paint, by a 
tall Prussian in semi-regimentals. 

Mary wondered at the strange sight until Warden 
explained to her that the horses in this war had to be 
painted to conform with the ground color scheme in or- 
der to minimize the danger from aerial attack. During 
the winter campaign, when the snows covered the 
ground, the horses had been painted white if they had 


804 


THE PASSPORT 


not been born so and now they received thieir second 
coat, at least those that had survived the first. 

Here and there, as the train continued its weary roll- 
ing over the great, wasted plain, were clumps of trees, 
like oases in the desert. All around them everything 
that had been raised above the ground had been razed 
to it by shell and incessant rifle fire. It was plain that 
the roadbed over which they travelled had been repaired 
at many points, filled-in trenches marking the line of 
earlier battles after the Germans had violated their 
oath as related to the neutrality of Belgium. 

The ground everywhere seemed to have been made 
over, not with the plow and harrow but with the how- 
itzer and siege-gun. In place of sticks marking the 
rows where God’s free gift of food should later spring 
up, there were rough, wooden crosses, fashioned out of 
leveled fence-posts, stuck into the earth to mark the 
rows of unidentified dead. 

Surely, the Grim Messenger had done the reaping in 
this fertile field and the harvest had been plentiful. 

Sickened by the sight of all this misery, Mary had 
turned her head from the window and was dozing, while 
Warden gave himself up to thoughts of the immediate 
future. 

If there were no unlooked-for delays they should 
reach the end of the line, as far as it was controlled 
by the Germans, long before sunset. The journey by 
automobile to the trenches and again from the trenches 
south to Chalons should bring them into the second city 
of the Department of the Marne in the early evening. 

He would ask Mary to marry him at Chalons, for he 
wanted to take her back with him as his wife when the 
time came for the return to the United States. No, he 


THE PASSPORT 


305 


would take her to Paris and they would be married at 
the American Embassy, a more fitting place for the 
consummation of their hopes. Happiness brought a 
smile to his face as he sat there, thinking of just how 
he would lead Mary before the American Ambassador, 
for the ceremony. 

“What are you smiling about, Dick?” 

“Why, I thought you were sound asleep !” he an- 
swered, surprised to find her watching him through 
half-closed eyes. 

“That is not answering my question. What were 
you thinking about?” she insisted, laughing mischiev- 
ously. 

“I was thinking,” he began, deliberately, “whether 
we would be married at Chalons or wait till we get to 
Paris.” 

“My goodness!” Mary jumped to an upright po- 
sition, her eyes wide open now. “Have you got it all 
fixed to your own satisfaction?” 

“I think Paris would be preferable,” he went on, 
teasingly. “The Ambassador would marry us there. 
It would be more appropriate.” 

“But are you the only one to decide that question?” 

“No, the Ambassador may object, though I doubt 
it.” 

“Well, of all the assurance !” Mary simulated in- 
dignation. “Don’t you think that / should have been 
consulted in the matter?” 

“Dear heart, I knew you were tired out with your 
journeying and I did not want to trouble you with all 
these little details,” Warden replied, moving from the 
seat opposite to the one where Mary was sitting and 
gathering her, protestingly and petulant, in his arms. 


306 


THE PASSPORT 


“Well, I am glad that you have it all arranged,” she 
finally said, in quasi-anger. “I suppose the Kaiser was 
also responsible for that?” 

“To some extent — yes. If they had permitted you 
to go back to Holland we would probably not have been 
married before I could get back to London or, maybe, 
not before we could meet in New York again. No use, 
sweetheart, it was bound to be either Paris, London or 
New York and it might just as well be Paris. Our 
journey back home will be our honeymoon.” 

Their happiness was interrupted by a soldier who 
opened the door of their compartment, the train hav- 
ing again come to a stop. 

“Bertrix ! As far as we go !” he announced, moving 
along to other compartments and ordering the troop- 
ers who occupied them to leave the train. 

A rattle of tins, as knapsacks were thrown from the 
cars in advance of the debarkation of their owners, the 
thump of heavier equipment, the shouts of soldiers and 
deep-toned orders issued by their superiors, filled the 
air. An officer came up, seeing the couple standing on 
the platform, hesitatingly, with their luggage by their 
side. He asked to see the passports. 

“Herr Warden, ah, yes !” he exclaimed, as he scanned 
the cards offered for inspection. “I have orders to 
send you through to Gernay, where you will be met 
by a French car. Also, I have orders to hold Fraiilein 
Buhrwein here temporarily. The telegram says that 
she must await the arrival of a messenger who is to ar- 
rive by the morning train.” 

Warden started visibly when he heard the German’s 
words. Mary, who also understood their import, drew 
closer to Warden and laid one hand appealingly on his 


THE PASSPORT 


307 


arm. The hamlet at which they made their final stop 
was a mass of ruins, without any visible habitation. 
Even the railroad station was demolished, only an im- 
provised tin shelter, along the platform, remaining as 
evidence that the place was a transportation terminal. 

“Have my baggage taken to the car,” commanded 
Warden, pointing to both satchels. Jerking his head 
shortly toward the train they had just left, by way of 
indicating that Mary’s luggage was still on board. 
“You can attend to the lady’s baggage afterward.” 
At the same time, he nudged Mary, so that she would 
not interfere with what he was doing. 

Warden had seen the big, grey car come up, engine 
purring. When the baggage was safely put into the 
car, with the driver, Warden walked slowly toward the 
machine, talking nonchalantly to Mary, about the ap- 
pearance of the place, the fine weather and every other 
topic that came first into his mind. All the time he 
kept nudging her, so that she would not cause any sus- 
picion to be aroused on the part of the chauffeur that 
all was not right. 

The officer who had volunteered the information that 
Mary was to be detained had stepped down the plat- 
form to give some orders and Warden took the oppor- 
tunity to get Mary to the automobile. 

He fairly pushed her headlong into the tonneau 
when they reached the car. Then, jumping in himself 
and slamming the door, he leaned over to the chauffeur : 

“As quickly as you know how, by Imperial com- 
mand!” he said, softly. “You know your destination.” 

“Gernay!” said the driver, briefly, as he threw the 
clutch and the car shot toward. 

They whizzed over a stretch of comparatively good 


808 


THE PASSPORT 


road for two miles without a word being spoken. Once 
or twice Mary looked apprehensively behind her over 
the folded hood of the car. 

“How far is it to Gernay?” Warden asked, when he 
became satisfied that here was nothing coming in pur- 
suit. 

“About eighty kilometers,” answered the chauffeur. 

Warden thought they were travelling at about twen- 
ty-five miles per hour. 

“We should make it in two hours, then?” he asked 
the man at the wheel. 

“Not with three rivers to cross,” was the reply. 
“And no regular bridges, either,” he added. 

It was useless to worry, so Warden resigned himself 
to await the outcome. He could not help wondering, 
however, who it was that had been so bold as to inter- 
fere with the specific orders of the Emperor. Then he 
had an inspiration. Leaning over the back of the driv- 
er’s seat, he held the two Imperial cards before the 
man’s eyes. 

“Ever see that signature before?” he demanded. 

“Y — yes, Excellency!” stuttered the chauffeur, his 
eyes big and making every effort to keep a steady hand 
on the steering wheel. 

“Well then, make the best time you can and allow 
no one to delay us. It is of the highest importance to 
His Majesty that we reach France at the first possible 
moment !” 

“Yes, Excellency !” And the car moved faster, 
moved by the awe of a Hohenzollern, quite as much as 
through the force in its supply of petrol. 

They first reached the S^mois, where the military 
road continued across the stream by means of a pon- 
toon bridge. As they reached the bank of the river they 


THE PASSPORT 


809 


were stopped by a huge caravan moving slowly and 
painfully northward over the stream. 

Frantic yells, shrieks and curses came from this long 
ribbon of humanity, that could be seen winding along 
the road on the southern bank for fully half a mile 
beyond the improvised bridge. 

Those of the caravan who had already reached the 
side of the river on which the automobile stood waiting 
for a chance to make the crossing, were struggling with 
one another while the yelling and shrieking kept up 
without any abatement. 

“Who are those fellows?” Warden asked of the chauf- 
feur. 

“Madmen ! Excellency. They have gone mad and 
are on their way home.” 

“Are there . . . many . . . like that?” 

“Yes, Excellency. It is the big-gun firing that does 
it. They” — indicating the jabbering, yelling, cursing 
mob — “they will never get well. They are as good as 
dead. They might better be, Excellency.” 

The sight of the unfortunates who had lost their 
reason through the detonation of the modern heavy 
artillery had, for the moment, caused Warden to for- 
get the necessity of reaching Gernay before the arrival 
of possible pursuers. 

Reminded of their danger, he urged the driver of the 
car to get the attention of an officer in command at the 
bridge. 

That official, when summoned and shown the safe- 
conduct cards, at once caused a signal flag to be hoisted 
and, instantly, Warden saw the long line of madmen 
stopped at the other end of the pontoon, so that they 
had to wait only for those then on the structure to 
reach their side of the river. 


310 


THE PASSPORT 


They crossed the Meuse, half an hour later, with less 
trouble and delay. 

By this time both had recovered their confidence but 
there was too much of depression in the very air of 
this ravaged country to make animated conversation 
possible. 

Mary sat looking silently ahead and Warden knew 
that she was awake to all that passed only by an occa- 
sional pressure of his arm through which hers lay trust- 
ingly entwined. 

The rough graves in the fields became more numer- 
ous and long, wide trenches, filled in and with a make- 
shift cross at either end, showed where the interment 
had not been individual — where a hundred, possibly 
five hundred had found reward for their devotion to 
flag and sovereign, by being piled, like the quivering 
carcasses of so many swine, into one common grave. 

To their left, when they crossed the boundary be- 
tween Belgium and France, lay Sedan, that huge bat- 
tle-field of history. They could see it as they reached 
an elevated portion of the road. They reached French 
territory midway between Sedan and Charleville, which 
placed them in the rear of the German forces at the 
battle line under Von Heeringen. 

Already great numbers of troops, relieved from duty 
in the trenches for some hours, were encountered. The 
Germans looked with curiosity on the swiftly moving 
motorcar, with the chauffeur in German military uni- 
form and the man .and woman in the tonneau. 

Three times after reaching the first of the rear- 
guard companies the car was stopped with a demand 
for passports but in each case the delay was trifling. 

Nevertheless, every recurring order to halt sent a 
thrill of apprehension through both Warden and his 


THE PASSPORT 


311 


protege, for neither could know, for a certainty, that 
the order for the detention of Mary had not been tele- 
graphed ahead. 

Then they met with their first accident. 

It happened on a portion of the road that, because 
of the heavy artillery that had been moved over it, had 
become rutted and soggy with mud. One of the wheels 
caught in a rut, the car twisted about and loosened 
one of the tires. 

While waiting for the chauffeur to make repairs, in 
which he was assisted by some soldiers, glad to be busy 
at something else besides killing other soldiers or loaf- 
ing in a trench, the young people had ample opportu- 
nity to watch the doings of the Kaiser’s men on active 
duty at the front. By the roadside one young Prussian 
was singing, to the accompaniment of a zither: 

In einem Jdihlen Grunde, 

Da gelit ein Muhlenrad ; 

Mein Liebchen ist verscliwunden. 

Das dort gewohnet liat. 

There was something inexpressibly sad about the 
singing. A dozen stalwart Germans, faces unshaven, 
unkempt and silently smoking their pipes, clapped their 
hands slowly as the young singer finished each stanza. 
There seemed to be a reminiscent look in their eyes 
which, while showing no enthusiasm for the singing, yet 
mutely appealed for more of the song. 

IcK mocht als Reiter fiiegen , 

Wohl in die blut’ge SchlacJit; 

JJm s title Feuer lie gen, 

1m Feld, in stiller Nacht . 


812 


THE PASSPORT 


It was the fourth stanza and from surrounding 
groups of stolid-faced men a score had come to join 
the little circle of listeners. 

Hor ich ein Miihlrad gehen, 

Ich weiss nicht was ich will; 

Ich mocht am liebsten sterben , 

Dann war’s auf einmal still. 

The singer sat down on the ground, laying his zither 
tenderly alongside of him. Not a word of approbation, 
not a sign of applause was given him, as he calmly lit 
his pipe and remained quietly gazing, blankly ahead, as 
the others were gazing — ahead. 

Undoubtedly each of that group had seen some com- 
rade left behind, maimed and yet alive, who also had 
thought, and prayed, “Ich mocht am liebsten sterben, 
dann war’s auf einmal still.” 

A short distance from where they had met with their 
mishap, and as they were going at a good speed along 
the road, they were halted for another passport in- 
spection. 

The officer who made the inspection this time decided 
that it would be better to have a pilot for the car, so 
the luggage was moved into the tonneau and a young 
Hussar took his place in the seat beside the chauffeur. 
This arrangement had its advantage in that the pilot 
became the living voucher for the occupants of the au- 
tomobile and dispensed with the necessity of showing 
the safe-conduct cards at each new line of sentries. 

At a point half way between Bethel and Amagne, in 
the Ardennes, they crossed the Aisne and followed the 
southern bank of the river on the road to Gernay, 
which they reached at dusk. 


THE PASSPORT 


318 


Two parley officers were sent ahead from this point, 
by the Colonel in command of the division at Gernay, 
to secure the passage of the car through to the ene- 
my’s lines without danger and also to request that a 
French car be sent to meet the German machine. 

The two parley officers went under a flag of truce, 
the machine with the Americans being held, in the mean- 
time, at Gernay. 

When the truce messengers returned, the automo- 
bile moved slowly and cautiously ahead, a parley officer 
on each running board, one of them holding a white 
flag raised on a long pole. 

Fifteen minutes of slow progress brought them to a 
point in the field where they could see another white 
flag waving from a pole some distance ahead. 

Warden was then told to take his satchels and, with 
Mary at his side, the parley officers preceding them, 
they walked to where the other truce flag was flying 
and, shortly after, were skimming the road in a swift 
Mercedes, southward to Chalons. 

A young French driver, alert and full of enthusiasm, 
was at the wheel and politely informed Warden that, 
barring accidents, “Monsieur and Madame may expect 
to be at Chalons in time for supper at the Hotel des 
Argonnes .” 

He thought that there might yet be a train that 
evening for Paris which, however, would not get them 
to the capital until midnight or after. 

“It is not a cheerful thing to reach Paris late at 
night during these bad times,” he volunteered. “It 
would be better if Monsieur should arrange to remain 
at Chalons for the morning train.” 

The change from the Prussian to the French battle 
lines was remarkable in more respects than one, War- 


314 


THE PASSPORT 


Iden, viewing the situation as a problem that he would 
shortly be called upon to aid in solving, was struck 
principally by the difference in the appearance of the 
opposing forces. 

Having passed through countless thousands of cum- 
bersome, helmeted Prussian troops, the agile, energetic, 
enthusiastic French soldiery took him by storm. 

It was as if he had come from a huge enclosure of 
unwieldly, deliberately-moving bears and stepped into 
a den of leopards and cheetahs. 

He made the mental observation, after surveying the 
French side of the Death Line for only a few moments, 
that the French troops, with their dash and their con- 
stant worrying of the ponderous and lumbering foe, 
would eventually cause the great Prussian military ma- 
chine to wear out, bit by bit, as a small, steel knife- 
blade can finally wear down a mammoth grindstone. 

They rode on through the twilight, French chansons 
replacing the German ditties they had heard before. 
Even in their song did the French show the lighter vein 
in their hearts. The chant of “Frere Jacques” was 
taken up by a regiment on the march, as their car came 
to a halt at a cross-road. As each succeeding line of 
soldiers, in their turn, took up the refrain, the singing 
grew in volume until, repeated again and again and 
without interruption, by the twelve hundred men swing- 
ing down the road, it seemed like a veritable wave of 
song, now louder, now dimmer, as the regiment passed 
on and the breeze blew its echoes back towards the 
battle-line. 

“Do you know, Dick,” said Mary, slowly, laying a 
hand on his arm, “that the air seems better here P One 
has the feeling of being able to breathe. Where — they 
- — are” — she indicated the battle line they had left 


THE PASSPORT 


815 


behind — “I — always — somehow — oh, I think I felt 
. . . as if there was a pressure — as if . . . there was 
always . . . something . . . about . . . to . . . 
happen.” 

“I felt that also,” he replied, thoughtfully. “I am 
glad to be out of Germany. I do not want to see any- 
thing of Germany, or of Germans, for a very, very long 
time.” 

“But, Dick — I — am — German !” 

“You will be a perfectly good little American by 
this time to-morrow, my angel, provided, of course, the 
Ambassador makes no objection! And I hardly believe 
he will !” 


CHAPTER XXII 


At the Hotel des Argonnes word had been received 
in advance of the approaching arrival of the little 
party. Monsieur Vitroux, the solicitous host, called 
Warden “Monsieur l’Ambassadeur” and nothing that 
Warden could ask him brought forth an explanation 
for the title. Monsieur Vitroux “had heard” that a 
special envoy, an American, coming direct from the 
German Kaiser, would arrive at his modest little hotel 
and he was very much honored to have so distinguished 
a personage housed under his roof, especially since his 
guest was a citizen of that great Republic that stood 
so close to his own beloved country. 

To Madame Vitroux was delegated the task of mak- 
ing “la belle Americaine” as comfortable as possible, 
while Monsieur Vitroux would take pleasure in person- 
ally looking after “Monsieur rAmbassadeur” and to 
see that he received every attention that the somewhat 
short-handed and very much shot-riddled Hotel des Ar- 
gonnes afforded during these troublesome times. 

Had Monsieur seen the wonderful news of his own 
country in that same morning’s edition of the Paris 
Herald? No? Well, it was worth the reading. Would 
Monsieur l’Ambassadeur deign to accept a copy of the 
paper ? 

Warden took the proffered newspaper. One glance 
at the headlines across the front page caused him to 
request Monsieur Vitroux to get Mademoiselle Berwin 
downstairs at the first possible moment. While the 


THE PASSPORT 


317 


proprietor Hurried upstairs to summon Mary, Warden 
again read over the epitomized news contained in the 
heavy, black type : 

THE KAISER’S ENVOY AT WASHINGTON 

WITHDRAWS GERMANY’S ULTIMATUM 

“Wilhelm evidently lost no time in communicating 
with his representative in America,” mused Warden. 

Mary came downstairs a trifle anxiously. The 
eventful days through which she had gone, naturally 
made her a little nervous at every sudden call; the 
imperative summons, delivered by Monsieur Vitroux 
all the more mysteriously because of the Frenchman’s 
vague conception of his guest’s mission, did not fail to 
make the young woman apprehensive. 

Warden’s smiling face and his eager manner, as he 
advanced to meet her at the foot of the stairs, reas- 
sured her immediately, however, and they were soon 
reading the Herald's Washington dispatch together. 
The announcement contained in the black headlines was 
fully carried out in the body of the dispatch, which 
had this to say on the subject: 

Washington, Wednesday. — The State Department 
gave out a statement, late this afternoon, to the effect 
that the German Ambassador paid a visit to the De- 
partment and had presented a note from his govern- 
ment, withdrawing the demands made in the communi- 
cation delivered on behalf of the Imperial German Gov- 
ernment on Sunday last. No detail as to reasons for 
the withdrawal of Germany’s demands, which, at the 
time, were considered preposterous by the Administra- 
tion, is available. The official statement merely said: 


318 


THE PASSPORT 


“The German Ambassador called on the 
Secretary of State this afternoon and pre- 
sented another communication on behalf of 
his government. The communication declared 
that, through a misapprehension as to the real 
state of affairs, the German Government had 
made certain demands upon the Government 
of the United States. The German Govern- 
ment now desired to withdraw these demands 
in their entirety. The meeting of the Ger- 
man Ambassador and the Secretary of State 
was of the utmost cordiality.” 

Officials of the State Department would not consent 
to be interviewed regarding the unexpected turn affairs 
have taken. The Secretary of State denied himself to 
all callers after the departure of the Kaiser’s envoy. 
Word was sent out to the waiting correspondents that 
nothing could be added to the official statement as given 
out by the Department. 

There was unusual activity in the German Embassy 
earlier in the afternoon, as well as an air of mystery 
that seemed to permeate throughout the building and 
to affect all the attaches of the Embassy. 

Shortly after five o’clock the Ambassador emerged, 
entered a waiting motor car and was driven at once to 
the State Department. His visit had evidently been 
arranged beforehand, for the envoy was immediately 
ushered into the office of the Secretary, with whom he 
remained closeted for an hour. There was a pleased 
expression on the face of the German representative 
when he quit the State Department and the Secretary 
of State, too, was smiling broadly. When asked whether 
he had anything to say for publication, the Ambassador 
smilingly referred his questioners to the State De- 
partment. 

“Any statement must come from your Secretary of 


THE PASSPORT 


319 


State,” said the Count. Then, as an afterthought, he 
added: “I am very sure that he will be glad to make 
a statement.” 

In view of the past performances of the German 
Ambassador, in suggesting what action should be taken 
by the American Government in managing its own af- 
fairs, this suggestion was taken as another unfortunate 
“break” on the part of the envoy. The official state- 
ment given out by the State Department, however, 
showed that, in this instance at least, the German Am- 
bassador’s words had no unfriendly implication. 

Simultaneously with the news of the withdrawal of 
the German demands, it became known in Washington 
official circles to-day that an American made a mys- 
terious visit to Germany within the past week, follow- 
ing a visit that he made to the Foreign Office in Lon- 
don. According to the report, which is given credence 
by those in a position to know, this American has 
travelled through Germany on an Imperial pass and is 
to-day either in Paris or expected there momentarily. 
No clew to the identity of the American, nor to the 
object of his journey, has been vouchsafed by those 
who claim to know that 'the report is authentic. It is 
generally agreed, however, that the mysterious trav- 
eller’s visit to Germany and the withdrawal to-day of 
the German communication of last Sunday is more than 
a mere coincidence. 

“Well, what do you think of that ?” Warden asked, 
his face showing the satisfaction that he felt. 

“It is splendid news, my Mysterious American, and 
I am, oh, so proud of you !” Mary clasped his hands 
in her own and looked at him with admiration and de- 
votion. 

“Here is more news from home!” he exclaimed, as 
he turned the page and spread before them that section 


320 


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of the paper given over to dispatches from New York. 
“Listen !” he said : 


ATTEMPT TO SINK “AUTANIA” 

THWARTED; SUBMARINE CAPTURED 


CENSOR HOLDS NEWS NEARLY A WEEK 

Passenger on Cunard Vessel Goes on Board German 
Undersea Boat and Returns with Com- 
mander and Crew Unconscious 


New York, Wednesday. — Cables received here to-day 
by friends of passengers who left New York on the 
Autania a week ago last Saturday report that, on 
Friday last, when the mammoth Cunarder was nearing 
the Irish coast, she was hailed and stopped by a Ger- 
man submarine. No attempt was made to torpedo the 
vessel unawares and drown the large number of pas- 
sengers, as was done in the case of the Lusitania re- 
cently. Preparations were being made to lower the 
boats and leave the great liner to her fate, following a 
visit from the submarine’s commander, when a young 
man, a passenger on the Autania , who had been seen 
to leave the side of the liner on the submarine, signalled 
for one of the Autania 9 s lifeboats. The submarine was 
taken in tow and delivered to a British destroyer, after 
the Autania 9 s lifeboat had returned from the submarine, 
bringing back the passenger and also the commander 
and the crew of the undersea craft, the Germans all in 
an unconscious state. The passenger’s name was Rich- 
ard Warden, of New York. He was the hero of the 
hour upon his return in safety with the enemy crew as 
prisoners. None of the Autania 9 s passengers were able 


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321 


to learn How the capture was effected. It is believed 
that 

“Dick!” exclaimed Mary, interrupting his reading, 
“you’ll be famous long before you get back to New 
York!” 

He smiled, reminiscently. 

“There is a great deal of satisfaction in being able 
to accomplish what you set out to do, my sweet girl,” 
he said, fondly. “If I can only accomplish the final, 
and the greatest stroke, end this cruel, merciless war 
and also make war in the future impossible, I shall be 
the happiest man in the world.” 

“So,” pouted Mary, “in your case it won’t make you 
the happiest man in the world to get me , will it?” 

“That great happiness has already been given me, 
has it not? Are not you going to be Mrs. Richard 
L Warden to-morrow?” 

“You have not asked me a thing about it!” declared 
Mary, reproachfully. 

“Very well, then,” Warden replied, laughing, as he 
took her in his arms. “Will you be my wife, my dar- 
ling?” He smothered her with kisses before she could 
reply. 

“Y-y-e-s-s,” came in a little, muffled scream. Then, 
“Sh ! Look out !” And Mary struggled to free herself 
from his embrace. “You shouldn't , Dick!” 

“But you just insisted that I should !” 

“No, I did not, either!” Mary composed herself and 
looked at him in pretended anger. At the same time 
she shot a quick, sly glance toward the head of the 
stairs. 

Warden followed her gaze and saw Monsieur Vitroux 
and Madame Vitroux standing in the shadow of the 
upper hallway. Vitroux, pere et mere , were part of 


322 


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that world that loves a lover and they plainly showed 
their approbation of the little romance that was, so 
quite apparently, being helped along the road to Para- 
dise under their hospitable roof. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


At three o’clock in the afternoon, the following day, 
a magnificent basket of American Beauties was de- 
livered at the Ritz, in Paris, addressed to Mrs. Richard 
Warden. Radiant with happiness, Mary found the 
beautiful floral gift in their suite when Richard escorted 
her to the hotel on the return from the American 
Embassy. She was all the happier when she discov- 
ered a card, accompanying the roses, announcing that 
the basket had been sent from the Embassy “by direc- 
tion of the President of the United States.” 

Her husband having an important engagement with 
the French Foreign Office, Mary prepared to spend 
the remainder of the day quietly in her apartments, 
thinking over her happiness and going over a list of 
necessities, which had grown in proportion with the 
hardships that she had been forced to undergo since her 
hurried departure from London. 

The French Minister of Foreign Affairs received 
Warden with effusive cordiality. There was none of the 
cold formality about this department of the French 
government that characterized the same branch of the 
government in London. 

The interview had not proceeded very far before 
Warden made mental note that the French to-day were 
quite a different people from the French he had read 
about — the French of the early part of the nineteenth 
century. The combination of the French and the Brit- 
ish should be irresistible, he thought. The former for a 


324 


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quick 3asK, executed with lightning energy and the lat- 
ter to support it with bulldog tenacity. 

“We have been expecting you,” said the Minister. 
“The General Staffs of both the French and British 
forces will be here shortly and we will then go over the 
plans that you mentioned to our good friend, Sir Wil- 
liam Purcell, upon the occasion of your visit to the 
British Foreign Office. If your plans are found to be 
practicable, the French government stands ready to 
join with Great Britain in accepting them. I am sure 
that Russia also will gladly enter into the agreement 
with you.” 

“It will be quite sufficient for France and Great 
Britain to use my discovery, your Excellency,” Warden 
replied. “If Germany is subdued on her western front, 
her eastern front will take care of itself immediately.” 

“But why do you object to Russia profiting by the 
plans that you have in mind?” 

“I do not in the least object to that, your Excel- 
lency.” 

“Still, you refuse to allow Russia to use your dis- 
covery ?” 

“I do. Not, understand me, please, because I do not 
favor the Russians in the present struggle, but because 
I value the saving of human life, be that of whatever 
nationality, more. I admire the Russian officers, but 
they would be helpless to restrain the hordes of Cos- 
sacks from overrunning the Eastern German territory 
and taking advantage of the absolute helplessness my 
discovery would have sent over the Germans whom they 
oppose. The French and British troops may be 
counted upon to perpetrate no excesses. The Cossacks 
cannot be counted upon for such moderation. I do not 
stand as a pleader for the German cause, far from it, 


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325 


but I would like to see fair play done by the two great 
nations that are to-day representative of civilization in 
Europe, in contradistinction to the savagery and un- 
fairness of the German methods.” 

“How soon, do you think, we could begin putting 
your plans into execution?” 

“As soon as you designate the place where I am to 
fill the shells that are to be used.” 

“It will not take long to turn them out, then?” 

“If you have the shells ready, I can give them back 
to you, loaded, in twenty-four hours, at the rate of 
three or four hundred a day. Two days’ supplies will 
be all that is necessary to accomplish our object on 
the western front.” 

The Minister was evidently greatly impressed by 
Warden’s calm confidence. He arose and moved about 
his office several times in an effort to subdue the ex- 
citement that he felt and which he desired to suppress 
all the more because of his visitor’s composure. 

Just then a clerk entered the room and announced 
that Sir Malcomb Premble and General Jaspere were 
awaiting an audience with his Excellency, the Minister 
of Foreign Affairs. 

The Minister ordered the two distinguished soldiers 
to be shown in at once. 

A moment later there entered, in full uniform, a tall 
man with keen, penetrating eyes, cold as steel but with 
lines around them that spoke for justice and human 
forbearance. 

At his side walked another, also in full uniform, a 
trifle shorter and stockier built, with kindly, friendly 
eyes shining forth from a face in which determination 
was as ruggedly portrayed as in that of his com- 
panion. 


326 


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Both saluted the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who 
greeted them warmly with a hearty handshake. War- 
den was being introduced to both the soldiers when an- 
other entered the room, unannounced. He was the 
Minister of War of France, a man of commanding ap- 
pearance and demeanor. A little later the five men 
were sitting around a long table in an anteroom — four 
men, matured in the affairs of state, and a youth. 

The Brobdingnaigan had come to the rescue of a 
ravaged people. 

Richard Warden had taken his place in the Council 
that was destined to end a monstrous and inhuman 
struggle. 

On the table there la}^ spread out, a war map. It 
was not the usual map, showing towns and cities and 
with battle lines as the journalistic critics concluded the 
battle lines should be, but a ground plan of the actual 
fighting, showing hills and declivities, trenches and ob- 
structions, trees — where these formed an integral part 
of the battle scheme — buildings and creeks. 

“As I understand it,” began General Premble, ad- 
dressing Warden, “you can overcome a certain num- 
ber of persons by means of an asphyxiating bomb 
which does not, however, kill?” 

“That is quite right, General,” replied Warden. 

“Over how large an area can you spread the fumes 
from your bomb, with a single application, for in- 
stance?” 

“I have calculated that, with a single shell or bomb 
of suitable size, I could control an area about a quar- 
ter of a mile square.” 

“There would be nothing to prevent the enemy from 
bringing up plenty of reinforcements so as to make it 
impossible for us to make prisoners of those who are 


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327 


supposed to have been overcome by your fumes,” ar- 
gued the Britisher. “We would, also, have to project 
3 r our bombs along a considerable front in order to 
make them effective. Here” — he placed a finger on a 
portion of the map — “we have a stretch of fifteen miles 
of infantry, supported from the rear by artillery. On 
either side of the stretch a hill cuts off this fifteen 
mile front from the main battle line. According to 
your calculations, we would have to project your fume 
bombs from points not further than a quarter of a mile 
apart, making nearly sixty points of projection on this 
stretch alone. Granting that we overcome all of the 
enemy’s infantry and cavalry along this fifteen mile 
front, they will keep on sending reinforcements from 
their rear and, in the meantime, the first troops will 
have recovered.” 

The Frenchmen were eager listeners as the British 
commander argued and they awaited Warden’s reply 
with tense interest. 

“In the first place, General,” he said, “the fumes 
will hold those whom we shall first overcome for at 
least four hours. The fumes lose their power to as- 
phyxiate after ten minutes. But those once overcome 
remain overcome for four hours at least. Immediate 
reinforcements will, therefore, come into -the fumes 
when they still have power to overcome. Later rein- 
forcements, that is, those coming after ten minutes 
shall have elapsed, will need another projection of the 
shells or bombs. On our side, the men will have a pro- 
tective mask to prevent their being affected by the 
fumes. The liquid to be poured on the gauze of these 
masks can be provided in unlimited quantities on very 
short notice. If, after overcoming a certain area, you 
immediately proceed on another section of the battle- 


328 


THE PASSPORT 


front, your men in the first section can begin at once 
the bringing in of prisoners and gathering up their 
equipment. Undoubtedly you can reach some of the 
more distant artillery of the enemy with fume bombs. 
When you have reached one of the enemy’s big guns 
you know that gun is silenced for four hours at least. 
I would suggest the co-operation of the aviation corps, 
who can assist materially in dropping the fume bombs 
on the rear positions of the enemy.” 

The French War Minister asked after the experi- 
ments that the American had made and Warden had an 
attentive audience as he related his experiences with 
the street-mob in New York and the subjugation of the 
German conspirators on the New Jersey sand dunes. 

The story of his capture of the German submarine 
as it was about to torpedo the Autania , brought the 
first expression of enthusiasm from the stern mouth of 
the British commander and when Warden told of saving 
the lives of the three German women in the court-yard 
at Cleve the three Frenchmen could not restrain a 
“Bravo” and, by jumping to their feet and slapping 
Warden on the shoulder approvingly, showing their ap- 
preciation of the young American’s scientific accom- 
plishment. 

It was decided that the manufacture of the fume 
bombs should begin at once. Also, that Warden’s work- 
shop would be an atelier at Bois-le-Roi, a suburb of 
Paris, where the danger of a visit from German Zeppe- 
lins would be minimized. There, the young scientist 
was to prepare his chemicals and load the shells and 
bombs that were to be furnished by the French War 
Office. For the loading of the containers he requested 
the assistance of three or four men of average intelli- 


THE PASSPORT 


329 


gence. Expert workmanship was not required for this 
task, he said. He himself would prepare the chemicals, 
for the secret of the fumes was not to be divulged. 
Special containers would at once be ordered for use 
by the aviators and the War Minister, in whose control 
the preparation of the new projectiles now passed, 
promised that Warden would have the necessary equip- 
ment within three days at the most. In the meantime, 
the young scientist could secure the needed chemicals 
on requisitions to be furnished by the War Office. 

After giving the Minister of War a list of the chem- 
icals he desired, which he purposely disguished by in- 
cluding a number of ingredients which did not enter 
into the composition of his formula at all, Warden left 
the Foreign Office to join Mary at the Ritz. 

When he reached his apartments he found her enter- 
taining the American Ambassador and the Ambassa- 
dor’s wife. 

“We came here to personally felicitate you upon the 
result of your work in America,” said the American 
representative, genially. “From the dispatches pub- 
lished this morning, I find that the internal problem in 
our country has been disposed of without a general 
unpleasantness or upheaval, as had been feared. You 
will see that the matter of armed groups within the 
boundaries of the United States has been settled by a 
new Federal statute which makes it a serious offense 
to store arms or equipment of any kind without a spe- 
cial license from the government and, as for the sub- 
marine depots that you unearthed, in your pursuit of 
the German conspirators, they have been destroyed. 
The German-American element seems to have quieted 
down and it looks to me as if that insidious plan to fo- 


830 


THE PAS SPOUT 


ment civil strife was successfully nipped in the bud. 
You have every reason to feel proud of what you have 
done for your country.” 

Mary’s happiness at the fame that was being be- 
stowed upon her husband was tempered only by the 
thought that, over her own young life, a blight had 
come. With her father in prison, a felon in the eyes 
of the government and of the country that now was 
hers as well as Richard’s, there threatened always to be 
a shadow on her future. A sadness that overspread 
her sweet face at certain times, spoke plainly of the 
anguish gnawing at her heart because of the unfortun- 
ate predicament of her father. True, his offense was a 
political, not a criminal one, but that did not take 
away the disgrace that comes with imprisonment. 

The Ambasador saw this momentary sadness come 
over the beautiful young woman and, divining the cause, 
thought the psychological time had come for him to 
present the message which had, in reality, been the 
primary object of his and his wife’s visit. Turning to 
Mary, he said: 

“We are also bearers of a little gift for Mrs. War- 
den. The President has seen fit, in the circumstances, 
to grant a pardon to her father. The offense with 
which he stood charged w r as a purely political one, com- 
mitted through a misguided conception of what consti- 
tuted patriotism. While the harm that might have been 
done to the United States, had his plans not miscarried, 
has not been underestimated, the President considers 
that the offense committed by the father was, to a large 
extent, offset by the act of his daughter, who volunta- 
rily furnished the first clew that led to the breaking 
up of the conspiracy against the authority of the 


THE PASSPORT 


331 


United States. In view of the aid she has given the 
government and the inestimable value of the work done 
by Mr. Warden, who is interested in her, the President 
has directed me to notify you both that Mr. Berwin has 
been pardoned, upon his promise never again to con- 
spire against the country of his adoption.” 

With tears streaming down her face, Mary moved 
over toward the Ambassador and took both his hands 
in her own. 

“I thank you, and our dear President through you, 
from the bottom of my heart,” she said. Then, turning 
to the Ambassador’s wife, she placed her arms about 
that lady’s neck, kissed her and cried softly on her 
shoulder. The elder woman, comforting her, led her 
gently to where Warden stood and, with motherly ten- 
derness, placed Mary’s arms about the neck of her 
young husband. 

“Go to him in your happiness, my child,” she said, 
kindly. “He is worthy of you and you are worthy of 
him. Go through your life as self-sacrificingly and 
with as much sympathy for others as you have started 
it. It has been a beautiful beginning.” 

For some moments there was no sound in the room 
except the soft sobbing of the young wife on her hus- 
band’s shoulder. He held her tenderly and there were 
tears in his eyes, too, as there were, in fact, in the eyes 
of both the Ambassador and his wife. 

Then Mary composed herself and smiled through the 
last, truant tears that welled as the rear guard of her 
pent-up emotions. 

“I shall never need to lower my eyes to anyone, now, 
will I, Dick dear?” she asked, looking up at him. “It 
is as if everything has been made right and” — she 


332 


THE PASSPORT 


turned to the Ambassador and his wife — “and Heaven 
has, indeed, been kind to me to give me such a hus- 
band.” 

Mary declared that, while her husband was busy with 
his chemical work at Bois-le-Roi, she would do her 
share in the Paris hospitals at whatever task the Amer- 
ican Red Cross would assign her to. As Warden 
thought that they would probably be kept in Europe 
for at least another fortnight — by which time he fully 
expected his discovery to have proven its efficiency in 
the cause of Peace — a message was sent to Mary’s 
mother in London, telling her to return to New York 
and rejoin Mr. Berwin. 

Her daughter and son-in-law, she was advised, would 
return to the United States by the steamship France , 
when that splendid floating palace should make her first 
westward voyage following the close of the Last War. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


It was a drizzly, miserable morning five days later 
that Warden stood on a hill near Lassigny. Near him 
stood a group of French and British officers and one 
from the Belgian army. The attitude of each man 
was one of tense interest, for momentous things were 
about to happen — or expected to happen. 

A big gun five miles away was barking at regular 
intervals ; and at every bark there came an explosion 
at the foot of the hill on which they stood. 

Directly underneath where the explosion occurred 
men scrambled to their feet, to fall again, their arms 
across their faces, as if to shut out the blinding flare 
that destroyed their eyes, just as the deafening roar 
destroyed their ears and the contents of the bursting 
shells their poor, scarred bodies. 

The gunners of the enemy, it had been calculated, 
had orders to fire the gun at minute intervals, for one 
hour, and they set off the charge promptly at the expi- 
ration of ever} r sixty seconds, knowing not what toll 
they took, nor did they probably care, as long as they 
obeyed their orders. 

Other big guns barked likewise, sending their shells 
at the foot of the hill where they stood. 

It was a human butchery done on a minute-headway 
system and the figures crouching in the enemy trenches 
less than fifty yards away were only waiting for the big 
guns behind them to do the principal damage before 


334 


THE PASSPORT 


they, too, should enter the fray and continue or — 
Gott mit uns — complete the killing. 

From the men on his own side of the battle-ground 
Warden saw no answering fire. There was an ominous 
silence and reserve among the allied troops. 

Hiding under their bomb-proof sheds in the trenches, 
they avoided the blast of the enemy shells, leaving only 
those with the heavy guns to bear the brunt of the 
German artillery. 

Suddenly a signal was sent up some fifty feet away 
down the line. 

A slim pole, with a little red ball at the top, had been 
raised so that it could be plainly seen by the line of 
soldiers lying flat on their bellies midway between the 
French artillery and the French trenches. 

In front of each man of that line there was a peculiar 
contrivance resembling a small mortar and the guar- 
dian of each mortar kept his eyes on the little red ball 
at the top of the slim pole. 

At regular intervals the big gun of the Germans sent 
a shell over the French positions and Warden could 
realize, for the first time, why the fighters went mad 
from the continuous flare and detonation, even though 
they escaped the steel splinters that scatters them- 
selves through the ranks of the defenders. 

Then, as suddenly as it had gone up, the little red 
ball dropped ; and, simultaneously, thirty or more chem- 
ical bombs were catapulted from as many of the mor- 
tars. 

It seemed to Warden, surveying the scene through 
his glasses, that the firing from the enemy’s artillery 
far in the rear became heavier and more insistent as 
the mortars sent forth their missiles toward the nearby 
enemy trenches. There was no sign of life around the 


THE PASSPORT 


335 


dug-outs of the Germans after the bombs had exploded 
over them. 

Then a roar, as of distant thunder, came from the 
enemy’s rear. 

Warden saw a cloud moving over the ground on the 
other side of the battle-field. The cloud became a dense 
mass of humanity and he saw an onrushing horde, in 
close formation and with bayonets fixed, fairly envel- 
oping the terrain as far as he could see. 

Again the “mortars” spoke and the advancing Ger- 
mans, with their fixed bayonets, fell forward on their 
faces, as shells from their own artillery whistled over 
their heads in the direction of the French forces. 

A great explosion from somewhere in the rear of 
where he was standing caused him to turn. For a mo- 
ment he thought that the enemy had executed a flank 
movement and were coming up the hill on the oppo- 
site side, cutting off the French retreat. 

It was his first time under fire and it took him a min- 
ute or two to locate the source of the detonation he 
had heard and to realize that it had come from one of 
the heavier French guns, discharging a big chemical 
bomb at the distant enemy artillery. 

There was no reply from the “barker” across the 
five-mile stretch — a stretch filled with men, horses and 
guns — that he had noticed at first, firing at minute 
intervals. 

Two, three, four minutes elapsed. 

Again the heavy field piece behind him sent forth a 
shell filled with the chemical. 

Another of the great “barkers” on the ridge beyond 
became silent. 

Within ten minutes the enemy’s artillery on that 
particular front had been silenced completely. 


336 


THE PASSPORT 


Over the field, in all directions, there were now only 
prostrate bodies of men and horses, with bits of smoke 
rising here and there where an exploding shell had set 
an artillery carriage or a pile of ammunition boxes 
afire. Barrels of pitch, too, used by the Germans in 
the primevally barbaric warfare that they now were 
waging, were set afire by the shells and burned, horri- 
bly, those who had intended using the scalding fluid on 
their opponents. 

Not being a militarist, he wondered why the French 
did not sally forth to take their prisoners. Surely, 
there could be no hesitancy because of the fumes for, 
even had not the French soldiers been provided with 
the face masks, the fumes would not, by this time, have 
harmed them. 

He was on the point of asking one of the French offi- 
cers at his elbow the reason for the delay, when the 
reason became self-evident. 

From the southwest a movement over the far hills 
developed into a vast, rolling mass of humanity. 

He could dimly see artillery being rushed across the 
chasm between the French and the German positions 
and he averted his face as he suddenly became aware 
that this swiftly-moving procession of heavy cannon, 
drawn by great, plunging horses, lashed to their utmost 
exertion by the short, heavy whips of their drivers, was 
being driven rough-shod over the bodies of the poor 
devils who lay, unconscious but alive, flat on the 
ground. 

It was a horrible sight and it sickened him. 

When the reinforcements came, apparently, within 
range, the field-piece behind him “spoke” again. 

A shell burst directly over the heads of the van- 
guard of the advancing artillery and hundreds of 


THE PASSPORT 


337 


horses, their drivers and the artillerymen, together with 
hundreds of infantrymen, crumpled up in one, huge, in- 
animate mass, forming a barrier which halted, for the 
time being, the army that brought up the rear. 

The heavy artillery of the French then began its 
pitiless task, having secured the range of the enemy’s 
reinforcements. 

The Germans who had been halted by the disaster to 
their field artillery wavered for an instant only. Noth- 
ing could withstand that rain of death-dealing shells, 
however, especially since their own artillery was, appa- 
rently, making no attempt to silence that murderous 
fire from the French hills. 

Warden saw that gigantic body move back whence 
it came, broken now and then in its ranks as shells 
dropped among them, moving faster and faster, in re- 
treat, as the fire from the big French guns kept pour- 
ing the shrapnel into what had been their front ranks 
but which was now their rear. 

The order to advance, bugled along the line, brought 
instant action out of the French trenches. 

The agile Frenchmen swept over the ground like 
wolves but behaved like the human beings that they 
were. They gathered up the equipment of their fallen 
foes, piling it in great heaps, while wagons that had 
followed in their train received their loads of inert hu- 
manity, disarmed and helpless. 

For an hour Warden watched. 

He saw the carts move slowly over the battle field, 
some loaded with guns, knapsacks, sabres, helmets and 
other equipment ; others with their human freight hur- 
rying back to the bases so as to return for more of the 
helpless prisoners without delay. 

Heavy firing could be heard both to the North and 


338 


THE PASSPORT 


to the South of his own position. Now and then mes- 
sengers, detached from the chasseurs, came galloping 
up with field dispatches from points where the field-tel- 
ephone service had been interrupted. Then they would 
gallop off again with dispatches for various nearby 
commanding officers. 

The French lines were now so well advanced over the 
terrain formerly held by the Germans that they reached 
nearly to the ridge where the German heavy artillery 
had their positions. So far, however, there had been 
no resumption of firing from that direction. 

When half a mile had been gained, chemical bombs 
were directed to the enemy’s hidden positions behind 
the ridge and the French troops advanced cautiously, 
gathering up their prisoners and sending these back to 
the rear of their own lines. 

Some of the carts passed along a beaten path around 
the foot of the hill on which he stood and Warden could 
see the faces of the unconscious Prussians, peaceful and 
without the usual battle-agony, appearing sound asleep 
as, indeed, they were. 

“C'est bien!” commented one of the officers, who had 
been observing the effect of the chemical application 
over the enemy’s positions, as he nodded smilingly at 
Warden. The officer invited Warden to accompany 
him and the other observers to a different position, 
from which they could determine how the enemy on that 
front was taking the novel means of the French to over- 
come them, without annihilating them. 

First, however, they stopped at the field-hospitals in 
the rear, where the surgeons were examining the Ger- 
man prisoners. The medical men were elated over the 
experiment, declaring that the prisoners — at least those 
who had not been trampled by the horses or run over 


THE PASSPORT 


339 


by the gun carriages — were apparently none the worse 
for their experience with the fumes and seemed to be 
resting normally under the influence of the asphyxiat- 
ing chemicals. 

A motor drive along the rear line of the French 
forces brought them to La Sarre, where they found the 
French infantry busy bringing back to the bases thous- 
ands of Germans from the field, after a thirty-minute 
engagement, during which the losses on the French side 
had been trifling. 

They were silently watching the long processions of 
carts with their unconscious burdens, miles upon miles 
of them, when an orderly brought a message to General 
Boutelle, one of the observation party. 

The French officer raised his eye-brows as he read 
the dispatch. 

“Mille tonneres!” he exclaimed. Turning to War- 
den : “My dear sir, the totals so far from three points 
of attack are magnificent. One hundred and seventy 
thousand prisoners ! At Lassigny our troops have now 
advanced ten miles, leaving thousands upon thousands 
of the enemy on the ground, who are being gathered up 
as fast as possible. Every available railroad train has 
been ordered to the front to bring back the prisoners 
and it is estimated that, before night, more than three 
hundred thousand of the enemy will be counted as in 
our hands. Besides this, we have captured many guns 
and ammunition transports. It will be a great day for 
France and Justice.” 

It was not all to be so favorable, however. While 
the northwestern front was breaking into the German 
lines with apparent success, the Germans were not idle 
along their eastern front in France, with the result 
that the Prussians penetrated many miles into the vine- 


840 


THE PASSPORT 


yard country which they had, on a previous occasion, 
already devastated, and seriously threatened the French 
right wing. 

Warden learned this after he had motored back to 
Paris and had gone directly to the War Office where, 
he knew, complete returns from all the salients would 
be received, giving the net result of the operations of 
the day along the entire front. 

That the returns already received had proven more 
than satisfactory was evident from the reception that 
Warden met with as he entered the office of the Minis- 
ter of War. 

“You have achieved a wonderful success with your 
discovery, Monsieur,” declared the Minister, enthusi- 
astically. “I have no doubt but the end is in sight. 
Already we have the enemy in retreat at several of the 
principal points for the first time since they halted at 
the Marne, in the autumn of last year. Their strength 
is broken. The allied troops are advancing along the 
entire front with the exception of the extreme right 
wing, where the enemy, this afternoon, made a strong 
forward movement which we were, for the time, unable 
to prevent. However, we shall, in the morning, send a 
strong fleet of aeroplanes, with your chemicals, over 
this German position and we expect to clear the enemy 
from north-eastern France as quickly as from the more 
northwesterly portions.” 

Warden was the recipient of much felicitation from 
other French officials who dropped in at the War Of- 
fice, but his personal gratification did not reach its 
height until, half an hour later, a message came from 
the British commander-in-chief along the Belgian lines 
in Flanders, to the effect that the combined British and 
Belgian forces had gained much ground in that section 


THE PASSPORT 


841 


of the war zone and had been able to take nearly one 
hundred thousand prisoners through the use of the 
chemical bombs of Warden’s manufacture. What 
pleased Warden most about this message was that the 
British commander desired that his personal congratu- 
lations be extended to the young American. 

He later went to the Waldorf, now a hospital, where 
Mary was doing her share for the comfort of the 
wounded. 

“After what I have seen to-day, my darling,” he 
said, when they were alone in the reception room, “the 
time is not distant when there will be no more need for 
military hospitals. Nearly three hundred thousand 
prisoners to-day, who, except for the fume bombs, 
might to-morrow be battling under bursting shells and 
be buried in the long trenches. It has worked out be- 
yond the most sanguine hopes of the War Office — far 
beyond even my own ! I feel to-night as if I have finally 
been able to accomplish something for my fellowmen 
and I am happy, happier than any man in the world 
possibly can be, for I have won success and I have you 
to share the happiness of it with me.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


Following the tremendous struggle of the day be- 
fore, both sides rested on their arms in the region of 
Granardier that forenoon, as Warden was hastening 
from Paris on the same train that carried the supply 
of chemical bombs intended for the aviation corps in 
their aerial assault upon the enemy between the Meurthe 
and the Moselle. 

These particular bombs were wrapped around with 
stones, the chemical in glass containers, so that the 
slightest contusion would cause the bottles to break and 
spread their fumes among the enemy. 

All the day before, the German hosts had hammered 
at their opponents with bayonets and quick-firers. And 
all the day before the defenders had valiantly checked 
the rushing tactics of the Prussians by counter charges 
that transformed the great plateau into a gory, slip- 
pery field. 

The drizzle, that had marked the opening of hostili- 
ties in this section on the large scale planned by the 
Kaiser’s men, had stopped and the day broke resplend- 
ent with a gorgeous morning sun shedding its light on 
a terrain that might well have been the scene of a gi- 
gantic earth upheaval. To some extent the field had 
been cleared of the dead and wounded, under a truce, 
but not a tree remained standing and a pile of bricks 
here and there suggested all that had once been a 
dwelling. 

From a prominence, well behind the French positions, 


THE PASSPORT 


343 


Warden awaited the first movement of the day. It 
seemed to him that, surfeited with battle on the day 
before, both sides desired rest on this splendid Spring 
morning when the skies reflected so little of War and 
the earth reflected so little of Peace. The effectiveness 
of the chemical assault promised to be greater on this 
front than on any of the others. 

Distributed over the great stretch of ground in solid 
formations, the enemy seemed, to Warden, particularly 
susceptible to an assault from above and he waited 
eagerly for the first hum of the aerial motors. 

It finally reached him from the south, where the 
French aviation field was located. 

Twenty swift machines, biplanes, rose from the 
ground and soon reached tremendous altitudes. 

The pop-pop of the Prussian anti-aeroplane guns 
came to him as the cork explosions from a child’s 
wooden air-pistol. The pop-pop was incessant but the 
height of the French flyers was such that none of the 
Prussian shots took effect. 

Except for the firing at the airmen, there appeared 
to be no activity among the German troops. Not a 
shot was fired in the direction of the French positions 
and no movement was perceptible either among the in- 
fantry or cavalry of the enemy. 

Suddenly two huge Taubes rose from behind the 
German rear-guard. 

They, too, ascended to great heights and Warden 
could see that, having got the range of the foremost 
of the French airmen, the Germans in their Taubes 
opened fire with the expectation of driving the French 
flyers off in flight. 

Like the birds after which they were named, the 
Taubes circled and circled over the Frenchmen, but 


344 


THE PASSPORT 


the two biplanes suddenly described a semi-loop and, 
opening fire on the Taubes, appeared to have reached 
their marks. 

One of the German flyers turned turtle and came 
crashing to the ground while the other, apparently 
badly damaged, volplaned to earth and to safety be- 
hind his own lines. 

At about he same time the French flyers, scattering 
over the full area occupied by the Germans, proceeded 
to slowly and deliberately drop the chemical containers. 

The Germans were taken completely by surprise. 

Expecting explosive bombs and plainly dodging the 
missiles, they heard nothing, felt nothing. 

Only those who were actually — and accidentally — 
struck by the stone covered glass containers received 
the slightest injury. Probably few were hurt in this 
way, since all, presumably, dodged the rain of “bombs.” 

The effect on the encamped Germans was remarka- 
ble, viewed from the commanding position that Warden 
occupied, from which he could see every portion of the 
field. 

The bright morning sun shone as before and there 
had been no change in the positions or formations of 
the enemy’s forces. But everywhere there was a deathly 
quiet. 

An army of one hundred thousand men, at least, lay 
motionless on this vast plain. 

Not a living thing stirred. 

Men and horses alike lay as if stricken by a pesti- 
lence. 

The French flyers went further then where the army 
lay, reconnoitering over the enemy’s rear. Then they 
returned and reached their landings back of the French 


THE PASSPORT 


845 


forces, where officers were eagerly waiting for the re- 
ports of the airmen. 

A bugle sounded, then another and still another, tak- 
ing up the notes that sent the French forward, en 
masse , with numberless carts and military wagons in 
their rear. 

Gun caissons were impressed for transport duty, plat- 
forms being adjusted so that each might take care of a 
score of insensible prisoners, laid side by side. 

It was an “engagement” with the enemy without a 
shot being fired by either side except by the airmen. 
The Frenchmen might as well have left their equip- 
ment behind them, although they carried it as a matter 
of course and as a matter of discipline. 

Red Cross wagons by the score hurried over the huge 
field to gather in the Germans and the little automo- 
biles that had proved so invaluable an aid during the 
progress of the war thus far, as ambulances, flitted back 
and forth between the “field of glory” and the French 
base behind the hills with their living but unconscious 
burdens. 

Warden sat on the top of the hill, fascinated. 

He dearly wished that Mary could have seen what 
he was seeing; that Sir William Purcell could have 
been there, since Sir William had doubted his ability 
to do what he said he could do. 

Yes, he wished that the President of his own beloved 
land could have been present, for he felt a great affec- 
tion for that man, an affection that had grown more 
intense since he had met the men at the head of affairs 
in Europe, especially since he had met the German 
Kaiser and his pompous entourage. 

He knew that this was the beginning of the end — • 


346 


THE PASSPORT 


for Germany and German outrages. That Belgium 
would come into her own again, although there would 
be little left except charred ground and inextinguisha- 
ble patriotism. 

Holland, which held a warm corner in his heart for 
his mother’s sake, would be safe, too. In fact, all Eu- 
rope would be safe from Prussianism hereafter — unless 
a Prussian should hit upon his formula, which was pos- 
sible but not probable. 

For the time being, at least, he had saved the day. 
**•♦*•• 

The preliminaries to a cessation of hostilities came 
swiftly upon the heels of “The Battle of the Meurthe.” 

The curious thing about that “battle” was the ad- 
vance of the French troops through lanes bordered by 
inanimate bodies of German soldiers. 

Finding it impossible to gather up all of those hun- 
dreds of thousands unconscious men, the French 
stripped them of their equipment and arranged them 
in rows, to be picked up at leisure by the Red Cross 
wagons or, should they come out of their stupor be- 
fore they could be picked up, to let them wander about 
the plain, unarmed and with a strong force of the 
French between them and their own lines. 

So the French marched on, two hundred and twenty- 
five thousand strong, into Alsace. 

Before they reached the second line of Prussian 
troops the preliminaries came — in the shape of flags 
of truce. 

These, in turn, were followed by a twenty-four-hour 
armistice on Germany’s western and eastern fronts. 

Wilhelm II, unable to bring to bear a weapon upon 


THE PASSPORT 


347 


his adversaries more effectual than the Warden bombs, 
changed suddenly from a thoughtless militarist to a 
military thinker. Thought, for twenty-four hours, 
was his only refuge. 

In the face of this new chemical strategy, Wilhelm’s 
Kriegsrath was as impotent a factor as a pontoon 
bridge would be over the Falls of Niagara and no one 
was quicker to realize this than the War Lord himself. 

Driven back to within the Belgian border from 
France, into Belgium from the sea to a point where 
Antwerp became untenable for his troops, and into his 
own domains to the eastern bank of the Rhine and the 
northern bank of the Saar, Wilhelm saw the tide turn- 
ing; especially since he had nothing with which to op- 
pose the allied armies in their new method of attack. 

The new method was all the more terrible to Wilhelm 
since it was humane. 

Had his antagonists discovered a new cruelty in 
fighting, Wilhelm could, without trouble, have gone 
his enemies one better, for horror was his military 
watchword, with which he had improved upon modern 
warfare by reverting to the darker deeds of by-gone 
centuries. 

Humanity in a fight between nations was something 
new to him, however, and he could not find a way to 
oppose the calm, bloodless arrangement whereby the al- 
lies made prisoners of his Prussians by the hundreds of 
thousands without drawing a sabre or firing a shot. 

The evacuation of Antwerp was a natural sequence 
to the combined British and Belgian drive eastward 
following the first use in the Flanders zone of the chem- 
ical bombs. 

The triumphant entry of the Belgian troops was one 
of the most striking incidents of the Belgian campaign 


348 


THE PASSPORT 


and marked the coming of King Albert into his own 
again. 

Warden learned of this the day after “The Battle of 
the Meurthe,” while he, with Mary by his side, sat 
watching the reviving of the Parisian spirit from a 
window of the Ritz. 

In his hand he held a number of cablegrams which 
had arrived during the day. One was from Rankin, 
with a word of congratulation. Another, somewhat 
more expletive, from Lindsey, extolling the American 
Richard III and sending him the greetings and well 
wishes from his alumni. Still another was from Bar- 
bour, which came from London, in which the Chicago 
capitalist suggested that there seemed to be no need of 
his waiting for Warden in the British capital and that 
he would meet him, as appointed, at the Laurel Club, 
in New York. There was also a message from his 
father, praising the work that he had done for science. 

One message, which had not come by wire, was de- 
livered at the Ritz by a messenger from the British 
Embassy. It stated that the British Ambassador had 
been directed by Sir William Purcell to extend the 
heartiest congratulations of the British government to 
Mr. Richard Warden. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


Compelling forces within the Emperor Wilhelm’s 
own domain caused the world to slowly begin shaping 
itself into a semblance of its one-time peaceful condi- 
tion. 

The Reichstag declined to support the government 
in its attitude of defiance. It demanded peace. The 
newly formed Liberal Party in Germany threatened a 
revolution unless the peace articles were speedily ar- 
ranged. As Herr Mahler, Socialist Leader, said in an 
impassioned speech, it was better for Germany to be 
bankrupt for a hundred years than to be wiped out 
entirely. 

A month had passed since the fateful “action” on the 
Meurthe, and the painless, unresisted capture of the 
hundreds of thousands of Prussians. 

The plenipotentiaries of the belligerents had arrived 
in America to begin the Peace Conference. 

The partial recovery of Europe from the paralysis 
of war had already had its effects upon the rest of the 
globe. 

The Peace Conference, although it held the atten- 
tion of the entire world, was, as a matter of fact, a 
mere formality. 

While Germany was permitted to have her envoys 
and to present her “demands,” Germany could not very 
well insist upon anything that her late enemies might 
decline to allow her. 


350 


THE PASSPORT 


Unofficially, the terms of settlement were pretty well 
understood beforehand, although it was stated and re- 
stated, in Berlin, that he Kaiser would “fight to the 
last ditch” — in the Peace Conference — against the en- 
forcement of many of the peace stipulations. 

Belgium, of course, was to be free, forever, of the 
danger of invasion from the east. This danger was to 
be eliminated by extending the territory of Luxemburg 
northward to the Roer River and eastward to the Saar 
and the Kill. 

Important concessions to Russia on the Baltic, in- 
cluding the Gulf of Danzig, the port of the same name 
and all the territory east of the Vistula, were among 
the points which the Kaiser promised to contest in the 
proposed settlement. The return of Alsace and Lor- 
raine to France was, seemingly, the only territorial 
concession that Berlin did not object to. 

Austria’s protests against dismemberment were not 
seriously considered. Servia, Russia, Italy and Rou- 
mania hardly left the Hapsburgs sufficient standing 
room from which to proclaim their indignation at the 
slicing process. 

Without colonies anywhere — her African possessions 
being divided between Great Britain, Belgium and 
Portugal — a firm insistance that she reduce her mili 
tary strength and the destruction of her Heligoland 
base, Germany faced an overwhelming indemnity, which 
included the return to France, of the 1870 indemnity 
mulcted from that Republic, with interest from that 
year. 

Commercial restrictions also inflicted their more sub- 
tle punishment upon the luckless Germans. German 
steamship lines, for instance, would not be permitted 
to take passengers from British, Dutch, French or Bel- 


THE PASSPORT 


851 


gian ports for a period of twenty years, so as to give 
the late allies an opportunity to benefit to the fullest 
extent from their own merchant marines. 

As if to complete the pill of bitterness, Schleswig- 
Holstein was restored to Denmark, from whom the 
Prussians had wrested it and, with it, of course, went 
the Kiel Canal, the pet achievement of Wilhelm. 

The Turk, driven into Asia by the Bulgarians, was 
no longer a factor in the affairs of Europe. Russia 
was to have the Dardanelles, while Constantinople re- 
verted to the Greeks, from whom it got its name. Ser- 
via became a sea-power in a small way while Austria 
proper, completely walled in, saw her flag disappear 
from the seven seas. 

Berlin fumed, expostulated, threatened. 

The fiat had gone forth, however, and Wilhelm of 
Prussia was asked whether he would have his plenipo- 
tentiaries sign or not. The answer was to be imme- 
diate. 

On the day that this ultimatum was sent, the French 
Liner France arrived in New York. It marked the first 
resumption of regular express passenger traffic between 
the Continent of Europe and the Continent of America. 

The occasion was to prove of even greater import- 
ance than the arrival, two weeks before, of the peace 
envoys, for the reason that Richard Warden was a 
passenger on the France. 

The reporters, who went down the bay on a revenue 
cutter, met the distinguished young American who had 
so thoroughly and brilliantly identified himself with 
the vital affairs of his country, and it was from them 
that Warden got the first inkling of what he might ex- 
pect at the hands of his grateful countrymen. 

Hardly had the gang-plank been adjusted between 


352 


THE PASSPORT 


steamer and pier when a brusque, heavy-set man, with 
bristling mustaches turned up in the manner affected 
by the Kaiser, edged over toward where Warden and 
his young wife were standing, awaiting the formalities 
of the customs inspection. 

The brusque man had met Mary in the earlier days, 
when he knew her only as the daughter of a faithful 
servant of the Emperor, Herr Buhrwein. 

He greeted her pleasantly but his business was evi- 
dently with Warden alone, for he drew the latter aside 
and immediately engaged him in earnest conversation. 

“I am the German Ambassador,” he said, by way of 
introduction. 

“I know you by your pictures,” was Warden’s in- 
different reply. 

“You had the honor of meeting His Imperial Ma- 
jesty, recently?” 

“I could not very well help myself on that occa- 
sion,” came still more indifferently from Warden. 

“You promised His Majesty at that time that you 
would use your influence, backed by your possession of 
the secret formula, toward an amicable settlement with 
Germany, by the Powers.” 

“The allies did not invade Germany,” replied War- 
den. “I think I kept the promise I made. No use 
was made of my asphyxiating bombs on your eastern 
front.” 

“His Majesty directs me to learn from you whether, 
in case the Imperial Government declines to accede to 
the unjust and excessive demands that are now being 
imposed upon it, it may depend upon your assistance, 
at any figure that you may care to name, should hos- 
tilities be resumed.” 

“I do not desire to have anything whatsoever to do 


THE PASSPORT 


353 


with the German government,” retorted Warden, net- 
tled at the assurance of the Germans, as shown by this 
request. 

“But the Powers are taking German territory,” pro- 
tested the Ambassador, whose tone was now almost 
pleading. “The Imperial Government would not ob- 
ject to a reasonable indemnity and even the loss of the 
colonies, but the taking of Schleswig-Holstein, East 
Prussia and our western front below the Roer consti- 
tute an outrage. You gave your word to His Majesty 
that you would insist upon reasonable terms.” 

“I had not then seen actual war, my dear sir,” 
Warden replied, somewhat warmly. “After seeing ac- 
tual war, I could never sympathize with those who be- 
gan it without reason.” 

“You are the only man who can influence the peace 
terms,” urged the Ambassador. 

“That is a different story from that which the Kai- 
ser told,” returned Warden, with a smile, “when he said 
I was a young fool to presume to dictate terms for 
keeping the asphyxiating bombs out of the hands of the 
Germans. A little later he sarcastically said he would 
recommend me as dictator of peace. Now he begs me 
to be the peace dictator. No thank you, Mr. Ambas- 
sador, I am out of Germany and, thank God, I helped 
to get Germany out of where she did not belong. Your 
country deliberately got itself into the mess. It is up 
to you people to get out of it the best way you can.” 

The interview ended there and the Ambassador 
turned on his heel and departed. 

It had not taken long, but it made history and it also 
brought about the signing of the Peace Treaty by the 
envoys of Wilhelm without further ado. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


In the library of the Laurel Club a group of men 
had gathered. In their center, standing with his face 
toward the soft light that came through the heavily 
curtained windows, stood Richard Warden. 

Barbour, of Chicago, had made the presentation and 
the young American held in his hand a check for one 
hundred thousand dollars while the others in the group 
were examining, with considerable interest, a card upon 
which was inscribed the name of Wilhelm II, REX. 

“It was a damn fine sporting proposition !” ex- 
claimed McRadden. “I knew, from the first, that he 
would do the trick !” 

“I think I was the most nervous man in Europe until 
I learned that he had reached France,” said Barbour. 
“I traced him, through our Embassy in London, from 
the moment he left England. At any time I would have 
been glad to give twice the stipulated sum to call off 
that dare-devil project.” 

“As a matter of fact,” laughed Warden, looking at 
his friend and sponsor, “I did not have that wager in 
mind at all when I went into Germany the way I did. 
Had it not been that my future wife had been trapped 
into the Kaiser’s country, making it necessary for me 
to follow her in order to get her out again, I would 
have entered the German lines through France. Now 
do you still consider me entitled to the wager money?” 

“In defense of a lady ? By all means !” interrupted 


THE PASSPORT 


355 


McRadden, while Barbour, Jordan, Clarkson and 
Quabb nodded their emphatic approval. 

“Did you come here on a German steamer?” laugh- 
ingly asked Jordan. “I understand they are running 
again.” 

“No sir,” was the reply. “We arrived to-day on the 
France and who, do you think, met us at the pier? 
Mind you, we advised no one of our coming. The re- 
porters who boarded the ship at Quarantine did not 
know we were aboard until some passenger told them.” 

“Don’t know,” said Clarkson, speaking for the rest. 
“Friend of yours?” 

“Hardly.” 

“Well, who then? Shoot!” 

“The German Ambassador!” 

“Well, I’ll be damned!” declared McRadden. “The 
nerve those fellows have ! First, you lick them and then, 
I suppose, they come to drive a bargain with you?” 

“Quite right,” assented Warden. 

“Wanted the exclusive right to manufacture War- 
den’s Cure for Militarism, I suppose?” laughed Quabb. 

“Right again. They wanted the exclusive right not 
only but they wanted it before the peace protocols 
should be signed.” 

“The devils ! The unscrupulous devils !” McRadden 
fairly leaped from his chair. “You showed proper 
scorn, did you not, boy? Contempt, too? So there 
would not be any mistaking your sentiments?” 

Warden smiled. “Leave that to me,” he said. 
“There is little sympathy for Germany in my heart 
these days. One thing, however, seems plain to me. 
That is, that even to-day the German Secret Informa- 
tion Bureau is still very active in Paris. How, other- 


356 


THE PASSPORT 


wise, would the German Embassy have l$nown that I 
was on the France ?” 

“Dick,” interrupted Barbour, seriously, is that for- 
mula of yours quite safe? I mean, is there no danger 
that some German will hit upon the ingredients?” 

“It is not so much the ingredients,” Warden replied, 
slowly. He looked at each of his friends in turn, as if 
trying to determine just how he would explain the mat- 
ter to them. “The secret lies not in the gas itself so 
much as in the problem, which I have solved, of making 
it at once heavier than the atmosphere, instantaneously 
effective, operative for four hours at least upon those 
inhaling its slightest quantity, harmless to health and 
cover a wide area. The one thing that would nullify 
its effectiveness would be a strong gale of wind, which 
would probably dissipate it before it could overcome 
any considerable number of people. My formula is 
beyond analysis. I have made every effort to analyze 
it myself without success. The only avenue to an an- 
alysis is blocked by an absolutely unpreventable and 
dangerous explosion which would kill the experimenter. 
I had one such explosion but, expecting it, I was able 
to save myself. So I am fairly sure no German pro- 
fessor will steal my secret. You can imagine what Ger- 
many would do with such a discovery as mine.” 

“Now what are you going to do with the formula?” 
Barbour asked the question. It was one of such im- 
port that it held the attention of his four friends. 

“I have not quite made up my mind in whose hands 
I shall place the keeping of it,” replied Warden, 
thoughtfully. “You see, it would not do to entrust it 
to any one foreign nation, or a group of nations. To 
give it to all, then it would be a matter only, in case 
of trouble, who used it first. I had in mind giving it 


THE PASSPORT 


857 


in the custody of Holland. Holland, as she stands 
to-day, is to be trusted with it. But, supposing that, 
at some future time, European politics and affiliations 
and alliances should change? Supposing that, in such 
an event, Holland should become a part of the German 
Empire? Such a thing is possible, even though not 
probable. There is a certain official clique in Holland 
which is strongly pro-German. The Royal family is 
related to the reigning house of Germany. I could not 
take the chance of having Germany ultimately in pos- 
session of the secret. France may, some day, be quite 
a different country from what she is to-day. A Napo- 
lean might spring up. No one can tell. I should not 
like a Napoleon to have the secret. England, too, is 
out of the question. England is very friendly now. I 
have not forgotten the Boer War, however, which much 
affected my dear mother. Switzerland is a land of 
peace — now. Will she always remain a land of peace? 
I could give it in the keeping of our own country, you 
will say. So I would, in a moment, if I could be sure 
that every succeeding President would make as judi- 
cious use of it as our present Chief Executive. But 
imagine a fire-eater in the White House ; a demagogue, 
a dictator, or else an out-and-out politician who, for 
political reasons, would allow the secret to slip out 
among those who, for instance, desired to overcome 
workingmen striking for their rights. No, the only 
thing to do is to establish a trust composed of a num- 
ber of persons recognized for their humanitarian and 
just views. When one of them dies, let the remainder 
elect another man to fill the vacancy, who is equally as 
humanitarian and just as themselves, and thus continue 
the trust in perpetuity. It would, at least, safeguard 
the secret and it could be used in foreign as well as do- 


358 


THE PASSPORT 


mestic instances, always on the side of humanity and 
justice. The formula itself would never be made pub- 
lic. If it were decided to allow some power to have the 
benefit of it, the liquid could be easily and readily pre- 
pared in a few hours, without trouble or fuss, by one 
of the trustees who would merely cause certain ingre- 
dients to be united, in certain quantities, by an assist- 
ant, according to the formula, without the assistant 
becoming one wdiit the wiser as to the quantities used, 
if my directions are followed. It could then be sent 
across the ocean in bottles, with directions as to how 
to inject it in shells or bombs. No one could ever 
analyze it, that is sure.” 

The five capitalists were alive with enthusiasm over 
"Warden’s description and his argument. They agreed 
with him as to the best plan for safeguarding the secret 
and each of the five men at once pledged himself for a 
substantial sum as a fund for the establishment of the 
trusteeship and its maintenance, although not, of 
course, as remuneration for the trustees. 

“One American office-holder almost precipitated a 
crisis, by resigning his important post, through his 
chase after the Noble Peace Prize,” commented Clark- 
son. “ You will not have to chase it, young man. There 
is no question but the Noble Prize goes to you, without 
another aspirant in the running.” 

“Undoubtedly,” assented Quabb. “And it will mean 
disarmament, too, within a very short time.” 

“With no more steel for battleships, shells, fortifica- 
tions and the like, where will you be, Charlie?” laughed 
Barbour, turning to Quabb. 

“We shall be making rails, plenty of them, to move 
the crops and manufactures of Europe, instead of her 
troops and war supplies,” replied the Steel King. “I 


THE PASSPORT 


859 


must prefer making rails to battleships or armored 
motorcars.” 

“Changing the conversation, what are the plans 
now, Dick?” Barbour asked. 

“My wife and I are going to the Berkshires as soon 
as we can, perhaps this afternoon, but in any event to- 
night. Later, I am going to have quite a task getting 
rid of the pay that I am to receive from the Allies. I 
have a scheme whereby I hope to make the most people 
happy out of it.” 

“But you’re not going to leave town to-night, I tell 
you that,” said Barbour. 

“Why not?” 

“Because, my boy,” replied the Chicagoan, slowly, 
“you will have to submit gracefully to the wishes of 
your fellow townspeople, as they would say in the 
Berkshires. You are and you are not a private citizen. 
You have put yourself in the limelight politically and 
now you will have to remain there socially for awhile. 
There is going to be a Peace Pageant to-night in New 
York. It has been arranged for some weeks and was 
scheduled for the evening of the day upon which you 
returned to the United States. Hence, this is the 
evening !” 

“But that is absurd — to make so much fuss about 
the thing,” protested Warden. 

“Absurd to honor the man who practically saved his 
country from a disastrous war? Don’t forget that you 
actually did that! It is pretty well known in this 
country that you tackled the Kaiser single-handed, in 
the dead of night, and caused him to withdraw the de- 
mands he made upon the United States. The papers 
were full of it — and about you. What is there absurd 
about honoring a man, especially a young man, not 


860 


THE PASSPORT 


versed in diplomacy and all that sort of thing, wKo 
could accomplish what you did? No, my boy, you are 
in for a reception to-night and it is going to be the 
biggest reception ever given anybody on this side of the 
Atlantic. Accept the honor gracefully. It is the 
American substitute for the Iron Cross. Wear a white 
boutonniere, symbolical of Peace. It is the finest deco- 
ration that you can wear.” 

# * * * * # * 

It seemed as if the entire city had turned out to do 
Richard Warden honor. The route of the procession 
held densely packed throngs on both sides of the thor- 
oughfares. 

First, there came the United States regulars from 
the Department of the East; then the sturdy jackies 
from the warships that were lying strung out in the 
Hudson, forming the naval demonstration arranged 
for the occasion by Executive order. 

Following the State Militia regiments came the car- 
riage of the Secretary of War, acting as the Presi- 
dent’s personal representative and by the Secretary’s 
side sat Richard Warden. A guard of honor from 
Governor’s Island formed the mounted escort to this 
carriage. In other carriages came Rankin, Leighton 
and several others of Rankin’s subordinates in the Se- 
cret Service. 

Another carriage held five men — the little million- 
aires’ club of the Autania and the Laurel. 

There were marching organizations of all the city’s 
hyphenated population — all except the German organ- 
izations. 

There were no German sharpshooters’ clubs in this 
parade ! 


THE PASSPORT 


861 


From the moment that Warden entered the carriage 
with the Secretary of War, at the Laurel Club, until 
he left it at the Ansonia, where the reception was to 
take place, he was the recipient of unrestrained ap- 
plause from the thousands who lined the streets. At 
the hotel he reviewed the pageant from a balcony. 

As he stood there he suddenly thought of that night 
when he stood at the curb, watching the munici- 
pal parade go by and dreaming of returning heroes. 

Now, he had returned as a conqueror, a conqueror 
as he had wished a conqueror should be — a conqueror 
who had saved life and had not taken it ! 

For a brief interval, between the reviewing and the 
reception, Warden went to his old apartment, which 
he now occupied with his wife. 

Together they stood looking out over the river, 
watching the twinkling lights on the shores opposite. 
The little lights that had been his inspiration. 

There were other lights in the river this night, the 
lights of huge battle-ships, real war material, to lend 
color to the dreams he once had had. But it was a 
peaceful fleet, representative of the highest ideals, of 
honor and good-will to mankind. 

He had fulfilled his dream. 

He had conquered, but there was no man’s blood on 
his conscience. 

He had been the giant, scattering and subduing the 
invaders and now he was being honored, vastly more 
so than if he had returned a conqueror with the drip- 
ping sword dangling at his side. 

He led Mary away from the window. 

“It has been done,” he said, as he took her in his 


arms. 


862 


THE PASSPORT 


They stood, silently, in that embrace which only two 
perfectly attuned souls can understand. 

“My wonderful hero !” she whispered. 

* * * * * * * 

As they came downstairs to join the guests in the 
great ball-room, an envelope was handed to Warden. 
It was postmarked Belgium, from the little town of 
Menton, and was addressed simply: “Monsieur Rich- 
ard Warden, New York, Etats Unis d’Amerique.” The 
sheet of paper inside contained but few words but they 
breathed a blessing on the head of the man who saved 
the writer and her little grandson and the entire vil- 
lage, from the brutal Uhlans. 

It was signed “Angelle Lambin.” 

At the entrance to the ballroom a man, with a 
haunted look upon his face, stopped Warden. 

“Please — one moment — I — beg,” faltered the fellow. 
“I am Hans Schulz, the waiter, who — tried — to — blow 
— you — up — by — putting — a — bomb — in — your — 

trunk. You . . . remember? Ah yes! You do ” 

as Warden stepped back in surprise — “Don’t fear . . 
I am your slave henceforth . . . You saved my mother 
and sisters at Cleve. You remember! Oh, I have suf- 
fered !” 

And Plans Schultz disappeared in the crowded cor- 
ridor, weeping. 

“Is it not just wonderful to be a hero?” whispered 
Mary, as they entered the splendidly decorated ball- 
room. 

“It is a wonderful feeling to know that you have done 
something worth while for your country and for your 
fellowmen — and women,” Warden whispered back. 

The Brobdingnaigan had done his work. 


Finis. 























